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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26771119">The Life and Times of the Heroes of Europe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptplayer5701/pseuds/tptplayer5701'>tptplayer5701</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>"Mind Games"-verse [30]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Technology, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Dates, Babysitting, Bossbug, Butterfly Miraculous, Concerts, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Dog Miraculous, Dragon Kagami Tsurugi | Ryuko, Emilie Agreste Lives, F/M, Fairies, Family, Family Fluff, Female Friendship, First Dates, Found Family, Friendship, Gaslighting, Getting to Know Each Other, Horse Max Kanté | Pegasus, IDENTITY SHENANIGANS, Kwami &amp; Miraculous Lore, Kwami Shenanigans, Magic, Magical Realism, Male-Female Friendship, Miraculous Holder Félix Graham de Vanily, Miraculous Holder Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Miraculous Holder Rose Lavillant, Miraculous Holder Sabrina Raincomprix, Monkey Lê Chiến Kim | Roi Singe, Music, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outer Space, Past Rape/Non-con, Pig Miraculous, Police, Post-Hawk Moth Defeat, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Puns &amp; Word Play, Rape Recovery, Romance, Science, Sexting, Sextortion, Snake Luka Couffaine | Viperion, Veterans, Weird Biology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:34:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26771119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptplayer5701/pseuds/tptplayer5701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A "Mind Games"-verse Anthology:</p><p>A collection of one-shots focusing on different heroes and their friends. You'll find a little of everything!</p><p>1. An Adrienette/Lukagami Double Date<br/>2. Monkeys and Dates don't mix...<br/>3. Why is Gorilla babysitting?<br/>4. A walk in the park<br/>5. A Meeting of the Minds<br/>6. Couffaine Family Dinner<br/>7. The Concert<br/>8. Heroics in England<br/>9. What did Kim do to that... whatever it was?<br/>10. Wait... did you say "<em>fairy</em>?"<br/>11. A little sister<br/>12. When a boy meets a girl at the pub...<br/>13. Marinette and Kagami watch a movie<br/>14. Going on patrol in Portugal<br/>15. "The Dark of Night" Part 3<br/>16. Is Killer Bee a hero?<br/>17. London at Night<br/>18. Valentine's Day Special<br/>19. War Stories<br/>20. A Christmas Market<br/>21. A Druidess, a Scientist, and a Pig walk into a lab...<br/>22. <em>What</em> happened last night!?<br/>23. The Curse of the Snake<br/>24. Baby Shower<br/>25. Tea Talk</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste &amp; Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Alya Césaire &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng &amp; Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Chloé Bourgeois, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Luka Couffaine, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Luka Couffaine &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug &amp; Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alix Kubdel &amp; Lê Chiến Kim, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Anarka Couffaine &amp; Juleka Couffaine &amp; Luka Couffaine, Anarka Couffaine &amp; Kagami Tsurugi, Anarka Couffaine &amp; Rose Lavillant, Bridgette &amp; Félix Graham de Vanily, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Amélie Graham de Vanily, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Max Kanté, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Sabrina Raincomprix, Ella Césaire &amp; Etta Césaire &amp; Manon Chamack, Ivan Bruel &amp; Stompp, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Kaalki &amp; Max Kanté, Lila Rossi &amp; Original Female Character(s), Longg &amp; Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug), Luka Couffaine &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine &amp; Sass, Luka Couffaine/Kagami Tsurugi, Lê Chiến Kim &amp; Xuppu, Lê Chiến Kim/Ondine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug &amp; Kagami Tsurugi, Max Kanté &amp; Alix Kubdel, Max Kanté &amp; Markov, Max Kanté &amp; Roger Raincomprix, Max Kanté/Sabrina Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle &amp; Kagami Tsurugi, Mylène Haprèle &amp; Mullo, Nooroo &amp; Sabrina Raincomprix, Plagg &amp; Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>"Mind Games"-verse [30]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Double-Date Take Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This anthology is a “sequel” to the first volume of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091401/chapters/60781750">“The Life and Times of the Heroes of Paris”</a> and picks up after <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542858/chapters/64700440">“A Miraculous Adventure in Tibet.”</a> The first chapters of that story give a good recap of everything to-date in the “Mind Games”-verse, so we’re starting a new anthology! This is one of three anthology series interweaving with the next several stories. The others are <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732992/chapters/65218351">“The Heroes of Paris: Patrol Logs”</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747443/chapters/65253148">“The Woman out of the Fridge.”</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Marinette knocked on the door to Kagami’s bedroom once and called, “Are you ready yet? The guys are getting impatient downstairs. I think Luka’s worried your mother will insist that Adrien start teaching him to fence. Though I’m pretty sure that would interfere with <em>your</em> training with him…”</p><p class="Preference">The door opened almost instantly, and Kagami reached out, grabbed Marinette’s hand, and dragged her inside. Marinette caught her balance on the corner of a bookcase as the door slammed shut behind her and stared at her surprisingly-disheveled friend in shock. Across the room Longg sat on her vanity in front of a can of sardines, and it looked like both her closets had exploded, with clothing scattered all around the room and piled in an untidy heap on her bed.</p><p class="Preference">“Are… you okay in here, girl?” Marinette asked, taking in the ordinarily spotless room’s state of disarray before turning to the girl herself.</p><p class="Preference">“Super,” Kagami retorted, grimacing. “I just have no idea what I should wear, considering this is technically our first date.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette furrowed her brows in confusion. “You’ve been together practically all summer, and <em>this</em> is your first official date? I take it all those late-night rendezvous don’t count?”</p><p class="Preference">“Those are <em>training</em>,” Kagami insisted. “Not ‘dates.’”</p><p class="Preference">“Sure they are.” Marinette snorted in amusement but turned it into a sigh. “I should be surprised, but I know your mother! <em>And</em> your schedule! But we both know Luka’s not going to care one way or the other what you wear.”</p><p class="Preference">“I know,” replied Kagami with a frown. “But <em>I</em> will.”</p><p class="Preference">“It is no use, Guardian-San,” Longg observed from the vanity with some amusement. “I have been trying to convince her of that for three hours.”</p><p class="Preference">“You should have seen Marinette the first time <em>Adrien</em> took her out for dinner!” Tikki sang, poking her head out of the oversized bag Marinette had brought, resting her arms on the bag’s edge, and fixing her holder with a mischievous look. “If I hadn’t threatened to have Plagg Cataclysm every article of clothing in the room and make her go in her underwear, she’d probably <em>still</em> be trying to pick something!”</p><p class="Preference">“You realize Adrien wouldn’t have minded that one bit, right, Sugar Cube?” Plagg’s voice called from within the bag.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette’s face turned beet-red as Kagami burst out laughing. “One more word from you two, and I’m eating all your snacks!” She pushed Tikki’s head back into the bag and rolled her eyes before pulling a box out, clasping the bag to muffle the Kwamis’ laughter. “Well, you happen to be in luck!” she told Kagami. “Your favorite designer’s got you covered – literally!”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami gave her a look of surprise. “I haven’t commissioned anything new all summer,” she objected, pulling the lid off the box.</p><p class="Preference">“Because I only ever work on commissions,” observed Marinette with a smirk.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami reached in and pulled out a navy blue blouse. Serpentine figures in light teal and bright red danced around each other across the front of the shirt. Near the swooping neckline on the front of the blouse was a small insignia reminiscent of the Dragon Miraculous symbol, but with a shimmery teal border that looked a bit like an ouroboros on closer inspection. She looked up at Marinette and smiled. “This is incredible,” she gushed, pulling off her old T-shirt and changing into the new blouse.</p><p class="Preference">“It even goes with those Capris!” Marinette told her, handing her a pair of shoes.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami quickly ran a brush through her hair and touched up her makeup, but fixed her eyes on Marinette suspiciously in the vanity mirror. “When did you say you started working on this design?”</p><p class="Preference">“After the Gala,” answered Marinette, giggling. “I… may have had a feeling.” She held her bag open, and Longg dropped inside to join Tikki, Plagg, and Sass.</p><p class="Preference">“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Kagami commented, rolling her eyes, as the two girls walked down the stairs to where Adrien and Luka waited just outside the mansion’s front door. “It even fits just right!”</p><p class="Preference">“There’s a reason I always save measurements!” replied Marinette, smiling brightly.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami pulled the door open and they stepped out together to find Adrien and Luka deep in conversation about Kitty Section’s upcoming concert in Le Havre. As the door opened, they broke off and looked up at the two girls. Marinette wrapped her arms around Adrien and leaned her head on his shoulder. Luka kissed Kagami’s forehead as she rested her head against his chest.</p><p class="Preference">“All set, Bugaboo?” Adrien asked, kissing her. She nodded happily and allowed him to lead the way to the car. The four of them piled into the back while Gorilla drove to the ice skating rink.</p><p class="Preference">“That’s a really nice shirt,” observed Luka, examining Kagami’s new blouse and tracing the serpent across her back and over her shoulder with a finger.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami arched an eyebrow. “You like it? Apparently Marinette started designing it as soon as I told her you were playing my song at the Gala without realizing it.”</p><p class="Preference">Luka laughed and fixed them with a knowing look. “So is that why you ‘arranged’ for us to take a trip together?”</p><p class="Preference">“Who, us?” asked Marinette innocently, giving them an impish grin.</p><p class="Preference">Adrien snorted. “Actually, in all honesty that was purely coincidental.”</p><p class="Preference">“And a side benefit,” added Marinette, smiling. “We definitely can’t argue with the results, though…”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami blushed and gave Marinette a playful glare. “The next time we train, there won’t be any holding back!” she warned.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette’s eyes lit up in anticipation. “Bring it!”</p><p class="Preference">They made small talk about the summer for the rest of the ride to the ice skating rink while the Paris streets flew past. When they arrived, Adrien insisted on covering their costs, and a few minutes later they were changing into their ice skates. Marinette sat down next to Adrien on the bench and his head automatically drifted over to rest on her shoulder. She pulled off her shoes and slid on the skates, wincing when they pinched her feet.</p><p class="Preference">“Are you okay, Milady?” Adrien asked, slipping off the bench to tie her ice skates for her. Luka and Kagami had already gotten ready and gone out on the ice.</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, I’m fine,” she answered, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “It’s just been a while since I did this.”</p><p class="Preference">“If we’re going to make a habit of this, <em>purr</em>-haps I can buy you your own ice skates,” he commented, tightening her laces, his hand lingering on her calf. “Then they’ll fit <em>purr</em>-fectly!”</p><p class="Preference">“This is my life now, isn’t it?” Marinette asked rhetorically. “A constant stream of cat puns? How <em>paw</em>-sitively ap-<em>paw</em>-ling!”</p><p class="Preference">Adrien pushed himself up to his feet and smiled down at her, holding out a hand. “Just stay with me, Princess. I’ll be right next to you,” he assured her.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette took his hand and he helped her up, resting his hand on the small of her back while they made their way out to the ice. She leaned into his touch and instantly relaxed. Once she stepped out on the ice, all of her Ladybug grace came back and she pushed off, holding Adrien’s hand tightly for balance. “Do you remember the last time the four of us did this?” Marinette asked as they made a slow circuit around the rink to warm up.</p><p class="Preference">“How could I forget?” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand and grimacing. “I still can’t believe I asked the love of my life to help me plan a date with a different girl!”</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah, that wasn’t exactly the high point in my life, either,” she admitted, leaning into him. “After last time, I brought some extra ice power-ups just in case! Still, I think things turned out for the best in the end,” she added, nodding to the other side of the rink where Luka was holding Kagami off the ice while balancing carefully.</p><p class="Preference">“And I’m glad it did,” Adrien acknowledged, putting his hands on Marinette’s hips and pulling her in close. “I can’t imagine my life today without you.”</p><p class="Preference">“Even now that you have your mother back?” she asked worriedly, turning her head to look up into his eyes.</p><p class="Preference">Adrien spun her around to face him and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the lips. “Especially now that I have my mother back!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Monkeying Around</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Don't bring a Monkey Kwami on a date</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">As Kim left the locker room, the goggles on his forehead sitting directly on top of the miraculous hidden under his swim cap and his towel wrapped around his shoulders, he grinned on catching sight of his “training partner.” She was just slipping into the pool to acclimate to the water, her own towel sitting on the edge of the pool, all her attention focused on what she was doing. The two of them were alone in the pool complex, their respective last swim lessons of the day having ended thirty minutes earlier. The manager was out front working on paperwork, leaving the pool itself for his two lifeguards to finish closing up. They’d already finished most of the closing procedures and filled out their timecards; this was off-the-clock “training.”</p><p class="Preference">“Are you going to just stand there staring all night, or are you going to join me?” Ondine asked, resting her elbows on the side of the pool, looking up at him, and batting her eyelashes with a coquettish smile.</p><p class="Preference">Kim opened his mouth to respond, but his throat felt dry. He coughed a couple of times into his hand and cleared his throat. “I–” At that moment his goggles slipped off his head and clattered to the floor. As he bent down to retrieve them, he thought he saw a light-orange tail sticking out from behind his calf. He glared at the offending appendage through his legs as he straightened up. Ondine gave him a curious look. Kim dropped his towel on the edge of the pool and gave her a wide grin. “I could ask you the same thing,” he told her, striking a bodybuilder pose. She giggled, but he smirked on seeing her cheeks redden. He took a couple steps back, raced forward, and took a flying leap. “Cannonba–yaaaah!”</p><p class="Preference">Kim stepped wrong just in front of his towel, slipped and caromed sideways over the edge, narrowly avoided slamming his calf into the diving platform, and flew out into the middle of the pool. He landed on his back with a splash and pushed himself right back to the surface. Ondine was staring at him in wide-eyed shock. A pair of light-orange ears were just visible over his towel, bobbing up and down in silent laughter. He glowered at the pool’s edge, dipped his face into the pool, and shot a stream of water out of his mouth, arcing to land just on the other side of his towel. The ears disappeared from view.</p><p class="Preference">“Um… you know I’m over here, right?” Ondine asked, knitting her eyebrows together in confusion.</p><p class="Preference">“Of course,” Kim agreed, grinning so wide it turned into a manic grimace. “How could I forget?”</p><p class="Preference">“So what should we do first?” she asked, pushing off the side and swimming out to meet him. She twirled a diving ring around her finger and gave him a sultry look. “Winner gets a kiss?”</p><p class="Preference">“You’re on!”</p><p class="Preference">She threw the ring across the pool and took off after it like a rocket, Kim right behind her. He cut through the water with a strong butterfly, angling to avoid getting caught in Ondine’s wake. She was fast, but he still pulled up abreast of her when they were less than three meters from where the ring had sunk. She dove a second before him. He drew in a deep breath to follow her, brought his hands together, and–</p><p class="Preference">Kim pulled off his water-filled goggles and blinked furiously against the unexpected chlorine sting, coughing up the water he had inhaled in his surprise. He dipped his nose in the water and blew out steadily to purge the water from his nasal passages. Before putting his goggles back on, he rubbed the back of his head, wincing. From the far side of the pool he heard cackling laughter that cut off the moment Ondine broke the surface, the ring clutched in her hand triumphantly.</p><p class="Preference">Her grin faltered as she took in Kim’s grimace. “Are – are you okay?” she asked, worried.</p><p class="Preference">“Fine, just fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?” He nodded a little too enthusiastically, and she pushed herself back away from him.</p><p class="Preference">“Um… right… well…”</p><p class="Preference">“You said something about a kiss…” he prompted, chasing her. She kicked away from him, grinning, until she stopped with her back against the side of the pool, resting her arms along the wall to hold her upper body out of the water. He placed his hands on either side of her and leaned in. She closed her eyes, and he – slammed his knee into the pool wall, barely missing her stomach.</p><p class="Preference">“Yah!” he howled, wincing against the pain and rubbing his knee with both hands. He propped his elbow on the side of the pool and moved one hand down to feel the sole of his foot where something had tickled him. Nothing was there, but something slid past his elbow underwater. “Damn Kwami,” he muttered.</p><p class="Preference">“I’m sorry?” He looked up to find Ondine staring at him in confusion.</p><p class="Preference">“Huh?” He froze. “I said, uh… ‘Damn <em>salami</em>’? Yeah… it must’ve given me a surprise leg spasm. Um… who knew that was a thing, right?”</p><p class="Preference">Her face fell. “If you didn’t want a kiss, you could’ve just said so.”</p><p class="Preference">“What? No! I–” he coughed. “I really do want to kiss you.”</p><p class="Preference">“Fine,” she told him, her lips a thin line. They curved up into a smirk. “But you’ll have to earn it again: Race back to the towels!” With that she pushed off the side of the pool and cut through the water straight back to the other side near the locker rooms.</p><p class="Preference">Kim grinned eagerly and pushed off after her, nearly skimming across the surface with his kickoff. She had taken a huge lead, but he cut her lead in half by the time they were a third of the way across the pool. He pulled almost even with her near the halfway mark, but she put on a burst of speed and stayed half an arm-length ahead. They were nearing the finish mark when he surged ahead of her by a few centimeters. He gave another stroke, his fingers nearly brushing the wall, when his towel fell into the water, covering his head and arms and weighing them down as the water soaked through. Ondine raced past him and touched the wall, while Kim pushed the towel off his arms to the side and came sputtering back to the surface. “Oh, come on!” he shouted at the ceiling. “One time! Just <em>one</em> time, you stupid K–” He cut off abruptly when he glanced down to see Ondine staring at him openmouthed. “–arma,” he finished lamely. “‘Stupid karma.’ Yeah…”</p><p class="Preference">Ondine blinked at him a couple times, her brows furrowing in confusion, before she scooped up his waterlogged towel and tossed it out of the pool. “How did that happen?” She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head. “You can use mine, I guess,” she told him, pushing herself out of the pool and quickly drying off.</p><p class="Preference">“Thanks.” Kim followed her out of the pool and took the offered towel. Before drying himself off, however, he flicked it around her waist, caught the other end, and pulled her closer. “I think a kiss was promised?” he whispered seductively, wagging his eyebrows.</p><p class="Preference">“Why, I think it was,” she purred, putting her hands on his shoulders and leaning closer.</p><p class="Preference">Kim leaned forward and put his hands on her sides. He could feel her breath against his lips. He–</p><p class="Preference">“–Waaaaa–” Kim pushed himself back to the surface of the pool to find Ondine staring down at him from the side, a bewildered look in her eyes, the towel forgotten on the floor at her feet. In front of his towel, hidden from her view, he could see Xuppu, half-phased through the floor, his mouth open, head back, and eyes half-closed in silent laughter. Kim took a deep breath, dipped his head under the water again, and yelled until he ran out of air. When he surfaced once more, the Kwami had disappeared and Ondine was staring at him.</p><p class="Preference">“Is… is everything… okay?” she asked hesitantly.</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, everything is just <em>peachy</em>,” Kim retorted, pushing himself back out of the water. He turned his head to the side and added, “Although <em>someone</em> won’t be getting his nightly banana when we get home from here…”</p><p class="Preference">Ondine’s mouth fell open, her head cocked to one side in a look of utter confusion.</p><p class="Preference">Kim flushed. “Um… that came out wrong…”</p><p class="Preference">She stepped back away from him, blinking rapidly. “I… I don’t think I want to know how that was <em>supposed</em> to come out…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Gorilla the Babysitter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Someone left Gorilla and Dorreen to watch four children. Who left Gorilla and Dorreen to watch four children?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">When Gorilla had imagined the kids including him in their heroic adventures as Ladybug and Cat Noir, he had pictured himself standing with them against literal forces of nature which consumed Kwamis. Using his girth and strength to protect his charges while they carried out their mission to defeat the villains who were plaguing the city. He had not pictured himself doing so in an indigo tailored suit while holding an orange <em>feather duster</em>.</p><p class="Preference">And he especially had not imagined that he would get roped into watching a bunch of children in the absence of <em>anyone else</em> who could have done it!</p><p class="Preference">But Marinette and Adrien were at the Agreste office today, their friends were all busy, he had dropped off Mme Agreste at a physical therapy appointment in the morning, Julia was out shopping because Marco outgrew his clothes again, and Lise had gone to the mall with the new boy, Alain, to meet friends. When he’d suggested that Mme Lenoir could watch the kids, Marinette had pointed out that when it came to housework, Manon and the twins <em>created</em> messes; they didn’t <em>clean</em> messes! So he was the babysitter for today.</p><p class="Preference">It’s not that Gorilla minded watching children; after all, the majority of his bodyguard assignments in the military had involved more “babysitting” the target than protecting them, and he had been little more than a glorified babysitter to Adrien for close to ten years! And he had always supposed that once Adrien had children of his own, if he were still involved in the Agrestes’ lives, he would have the opportunity to watch Adrien’s children grow up, too. And in any event the Mansion security system could be operated remotely from his tablet (as long as Ella Césaire didn’t break the thing again…). So he could easily watch the house and the kids simultaneously.</p><p class="Preference">He just hadn’t realized that he would be doing so in a dress.</p><p class="Preference">“More tea, M. Gorilla?” asked Etta, giggling shrilly.</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla nodded in resignation and held out the tiny pink plastic teacup that practically disappeared in his enormous hand. Etta reached up to find his hand and was about to stand up on her tiptoes – the teapot full of apple juice tipped over precariously as she did so – when Gorilla dropped his hand all the way to the table for her to reach. She tipped the plastic teapot and made a whooshing sound as she poured the “tea.”</p><p class="Preference">Ella ran over from the play kitchen, a cooking sheet in her hands. “Fresh scones!” she shouted excitedly before tripping over her untied shoelaces. The tray flew into the air, sending plastic scones in all directions, and she tumbled forward. She would have face-planted into the little wooden table if Gorilla hadn’t lunged forward, dropping the teacup full of juice on the floor as he did so, catching her with one hand and knocking the tiny lavender hat they’d put on his head askew. The girl’s giggling as he lifted her off the floor couldn’t quite mask the tearing sound as his “dress” caught on the tiny wooden chair they’d given him to sit in.</p><p class="Preference">“Oh no!” gasped Etta, putting a hand to her mouth. “It ripped! Manon!”</p><p class="Preference">Manon looked over and clucked her tongue in disapproval. “And I just made that today, too!” She grabbed the toy sewing kit she’d found somewhere and came over to inspect Gorilla. Somehow he didn’t think Marinette or Mme Agreste <em>or</em> Mme Lenoir would approve of the girls cutting a hole in one of their pink tablecloths, shoving it over his head, and fashioning it into a makeshift dress. But, then, they’d tried to put him in a half-dozen of M. Agreste’s old unsold dresses from the last four years, and none of them had quite fit properly in the shoulders. Or the chest. Or the arms. Or the waist… or <em>anywhere</em>, really. And for some reason Manon had been really excited to “design” a dress for him to wear…</p><p class="Preference">He could stare down a terrorist with a machine gun and scare him into dropping the weapon just by clenching one fist. But he somehow couldn’t stop these three from putting him in a “dress”…</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla started when Manon poked him with a pin while trying to “repair” the place where the “dress” had torn. He gave her a look of annoyance, which she ignored, focused as she was on her sewing. Where on earth she found a “toy” sewing kit with actual needles and pins…</p><p class="Preference">Clearly the girl spent far too much time around Marinette.</p><p class="Preference">Ella and Etta had lost interest in the tea party for now and raced off to play in the toy kitchen. “Let’s make chicken cordon bleu!” shouted Etta, grabbing a package of fake chicken from the refrigerator.</p><p class="Preference">“No way! We need to make ratatouille!” Ella shouted back, pulling out the correct dishes.</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla tuned them out and tried to ignore the repeated pinpricks in his side from the overeager budding seamstress. When all this was over, he would need to have a talk with his employers about leaving him to watch four children alone. And probably find a pair of scissors to get this thing off.</p><p class="Preference"><em>Wait… </em>four<em> children? Where’s Marco?</em></p><p class="Preference">Gorilla furrowed his brows as he looked around the room for the toddler. Then he heard high-pitched giggling from the direction of the enormous playhouse that took up a third of the playroom. Through one of the windows he caught sight of Marco playing with a couple of plush Heroes of Paris dolls while Dorreen sat on the counter next to him, holding up a King Monkey doll and pretending to swordfight with Marco’s Ryoku. Gorilla let out a sigh and relaxed. At least Dorreen could keep an eye on that one. He winced as Manon poked him yet again.</p><p class="Preference">“And… done!” Manon announced. “All better! And I even added embroidery around the hole to hide it!”</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla twisted his head and looked, and she had indeed put in a few extra stitches. He snorted. A budding designer. The kids would be thrilled.</p><p class="Preference">Ella and Etta finally came over to the table where Gorilla was still sitting and set down a massive stock pot that took up nearly the entire table. “We’re having chicken cordon ratatouille soup!”</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla stared at them in befuddlement. Clearly they had not inherited their <em>mother</em>’s culinary skills…</p><p class="Preference">At that moment the playroom door opened and Gorilla turned to find Alya standing in the doorway and staring at him with her jaw hanging open and eyes bugging out in surprise. Before he could react, she raised her phone and snapped a quick picture of him. “And now I have my new lock screen!” she snorted. Gorilla glared at her. “Oh fine,” she conceded, stifling a laugh. “But Marinette tots needs to see this!”</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla shrugged in resignation. If he couldn’t prevent three eight-year-olds from putting him in this thing in the first place, he couldn’t even <em>pretend</em> to be able to stop the teen from sharing it…</p><p class="Preference">Alya held a hand out to the twins and Manon. “Okay girls, time to go!”</p><p class="Preference">The three girls raced out the door, giggling excitedly. “Can we stop for ice cream?” “I want to go to the park!” “Éclairs!”</p><p class="Preference">When their shouts of excitement finally died down, Gorilla slipped off the tiny wooden chair where he had spent the last hour sitting hunched over and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could hear Marco in the playhouse still, but it was okay. Dorreen was watching him.</p><p class="Preference">Then he heard the Kwami’s giggles draw closer as she phased through the playhouse and approached him. “You know, we really need to ad-<em>dress</em> the <em>monkey</em> in the room instead of <em>skirt</em>-ing around the issue. You make a very pretty princess! Very distin-<em>goose</em>-d! It brings a <em>tiara</em> to my eye to see your <em>crown</em>-ing ach–”</p><p class="Preference">Gorilla lunged forward and grabbed Dorreen out of the air, holding her centimeters from his face. Opening his eyes he glared at her, squeezing her the tiniest bit so her eyes bugged out of her face.</p><p class="Preference">She gasped and let out a surprised squawk. “Right… no more puns…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If someone wanted to make a drawing of the Gorilla sitting in a tiny wooden chair wearing a small purple hat and a pink “dress” while holding a miniscule teacup and having a tea party with Manon and the Césaire twins, that would be pretty amazing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Walk in the Park</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Julia, Pablo, and Marco go for a walk through the park and stop in at a familiar bakery</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Julia couldn’t remember the last time she did something as simple as walk through the park hand-in-hand with her husband. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The last time had been in New Atlantis during one of their meeting breaks when they strolled through the city center together. The time before that had been over a month ago on Heroes’ Day, when they had brought Marco to the zoo with Lise. But for as enjoyable as both those times had been, it just wasn’t the same. They’d left Marco in Paris for the Miraculous meeting. And on Heroes’ Day there had still been the looming threat of the Lynchpin attack that had never happened.</p><p class="Preference">That was what made today’s outing so much better: she and Pablo could just enjoy the day and the sun and the companionship together with Marco without worrying. She placed her other hand on Pablo’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder, sighing in contentment as Marco toddled ahead of them. “I miss seeing you every day,” she whispered.</p><p class="Preference">Pablo smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She shifted her own arm to his waist. “There isn’t a day that goes by and I don’t think about you and Marco staying here without me,” he told her. “That may be the hardest part of this mission,” he confessed, frowning sadly.</p><p class="Preference">Julia pursed her lips. Although they had gone on separate assignments many times in the past – both before and after they got married – this was their longest separation since before Marco’s birth. Or at least it would have been if Pegasus hadn’t agreed to use his ability to let them spend the occasional weekend together. That alone made this bearable, though not at all easy.</p><p class="Preference">“I’ve been thinking about giving up on my surveillance,” Pablo admitted quietly. She squeezed his arm in an invitation to continue. “It’s been months since we fought the Dark Acolytes, and I haven’t gotten any closer to tracking them down. We know where they are, but they must have some other exit, as I have yet to see them leaving along the path we know about. They are so well hidden, and I dare not approach their temple de-transformed to pass through their wards.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia hummed in contemplation. “Since we now know about them and their temple’s location, perhaps we <em>should</em> leave them alone, if only for a few weeks,” she suggested. “Perhaps if they know you aren’t there anymore they will be more willing to let their guard down when we return.”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo nodded and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Wise and beautiful as always, <em>mi amor</em>.” He chuckled. “Besides, as far as we know they don’t actually have any other miraculous in their possession since we recovered the Alpaca from them.” He frowned. “The only trouble is Guardian Diego: we still haven’t seen any trace of him.”</p><p class="Preference">“Do you think he’s still alive?” asked Julia delicately.</p><p class="Preference">“No.” He sighed heavily. “By now surely either he has renounced or they have killed him. But we may never know for sure.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia wrapped her arms around his chest comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” she told him. He nodded in acceptance. “My assignment has felt the same,” she admitted. “I’ve gotten a sense for a few of the Lynchpin’s miraculous, but still no trace of the Bear. I’ve spoken to Pedro, and he thinks Lynchpin must be using more Dark Acolyte shields to hide his miraculous users most of the time. I get hints of the Reindeer every so often, but never for very long. Most of them are around the 14th Arrondissement, but not all. And if they <em>are</em> using chi-shields to hide, I don’t know how much use I can really be to the Paris Heroes.”</p><p class="Preference">“Are you thinking about returning to Peru?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia nodded reluctantly. “I am considering it,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to give up. They still have two of our miraculous, and the Bear still hasn’t appeared. Every time I take Marco out there’s the possibility that this will be the day Killer Bee or Tyran-X walks right past me and I can identify them as civilians. And in any event it has been nice to meet and get to know the Paris team. Lise especially has enjoyed our time here.”</p><p class="Preference">Marco raced back to them and threw himself into Pablo’s arms. Pablo picked him up, and he wrapped his arms around Pablo’s neck in a tight hug.</p><p class="Preference">“Looks like someone missed his Daddy!” Julia observed, smiling fondly.</p><p class="Preference">“And his Daddy missed him, too,” replied Pablo, hugging him back tightly.</p><p class="Preference">“Cookies, Daddy?” asked Marco eagerly, pointing at the Dupain-Chengs’ bakery across the street.</p><p class="Preference">Pablo gave Julia a look and nodded. “Sounds good, <em>muchacho</em>,” he told him as they made their way across the street to the bakery in question. The bell over the door rang as they entered, and Julia inhaled the pleasant aromas of fresh-baked pastries.</p><p class="Preference">Sabine looked up and smiled. “And how are you today?” she greeted them in English.</p><p class="Preference">“Very well,” Julia replied with a grin. “This is my husband, Pablo. He is here for a quick visit to make sure Marco does not grow too much without him noticing!”</p><p class="Preference">Sabine nodded in understanding. “Ah, at that age they grow like weeds!” She grinned mischievously. “Of course, then they reach lycée and suddenly they start <em>really</em> growing up!”</p><p class="Preference">“Mama!” Marinette complained, pushing through the kitchen door, a tray of fresh éclairs in her hands. “Are you telling stories about me again?” She caught sight of Julia, Pablo, and Marco, and smiled brightly, dropped six éclairs into a bag. “I thought you would still be at the park!”</p><p class="Preference">“Marco wanted cookies,” Julia explained, nodding to the two-year-old, who finally caught sight of her.</p><p class="Preference">“Nette!” he shouted eagerly, bouncing in Pablo’s arms. “¿Dónde is ‘Ki?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia chuckled, her eyes darting back and forth between Marinette and Sabine. Marinette let out a quiet snort as Sabine mouthed “Ki” in some confusion.</p><p class="Preference">Then Sabine’s eyes lit up in realization. “Oh, of course!” she told the toddler, nodding conversationally. “I think our favorite little taste-tester is sampling the new macaroon flavors right now. Would you like to try a few?”</p><p class="Preference">Marco nodded eagerly. “¡Plaît favor!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia laughed. “One of these days, he will actually be able to say names! Though hopefully not before we can explain that some things do not need to be discussed in public.”</p><p class="Preference">Sabine smiled. “Good luck with that! It took until she was fourteen before Marinette stopped talking about–”</p><p class="Preference">“Mama!” Marinette whined.</p><p class="Preference">“So then you must be the friends the kids met in America!” Sabine went on, unperturbed. “I had wondered. We do not have many foreigners as regular customers.” She poked Marco in the stomach. “Suddenly all of Marinette’s stories about your precious son make so much more sense!”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo chuckled. “‘Precious’ is not a word I use to describe him often!” he joked, tickling Marco’s sides so he squirmed. He pulled out his wallet to pay for the éclairs, but Sabine dropped a handful of macaroons into the bag and pushed it into his hand with a shake of her head.</p><p class="Preference">“Marinette’s friends are always welcome here!” she assured them.</p><p class="Preference">Pablo turned to Julia and grinned. “I see why you wouldn’t want to leave Paris!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I didn’t actually plan it this way, but today’s “Patrol Log” is with Julia/Lupa Gris also.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Tech Support</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Max has a "meeting of the minds" at the Australian Temple-Island</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously introduced original characters: <br/>Victor – the orange-furred alien introduced in <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969224/chapters/65826298">“It Came from Outer Space”</a><br/>Paola – Onça Feroz (Jaguar Miraculous holder), member of the American Miraculous Team<br/>Mohamed – Maroodiga Cawlan (Elephant Miraculous holder), member of the African Miraculous Team</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“I am still unclear as to why you brought me.”</p><p class="Preference">Max looked up from the computer screen on which he had been proofing code and smirked. “Of everyone present, you are the only one who has ever been to space <em>in</em> a spacecraft,” he pointed out.</p><p class="Preference">Victor scoffed and dropped his armful of parts next to a wing before wiping his brow with the back of one paw. “That doesn’t mean I understand how they <em>work</em>!”</p><p class="Preference">Max shrugged. “You know, the <em>last</em> alien I met said that astronomical engineering was considered common knowledge.”</p><p class="Preference">“And you believed everything he told you.”</p><p class="Preference">Giving the alien a dirty look, Max threw a notepad across the room at him.</p><p class="Preference">Paola slid out from under the space-plane’s wing, pulled up her welding mask, and grinned. “At least you both have <em>been</em> to space!” she noted. “I cannot wait until we have this ship ready for a test run!” She grabbed another light-brown heat shielding panel from the stack and maneuvered her creeper back under the ship. Her Kwami, Balamm, flitted out from under the space-plane and found a box of industrial-grade screws, while Kaalki picked up a fresh supply of filler rods. The Kwamis placed their supplies on a second creeper and pushed it under the space-plane where Paola could reach it.</p><p class="Preference">Victor dragged another three panels to the opposite side of the space-plane as Max returned his focus to programming the software that would control the gyroscopic stabilizers and maneuvering thrusters. The Australian Miraculous Guardians had set aside this unused plot of land for their spaceport after the second (abbreviated) meeting with the Guardians from all four groups had ended. A few days earlier Dane, their Anklyosaur Miraculous holder, had flattened a stretch of land three kilometers long as an emergency landing strip, with a rectangular section 300 meters wide set at one end to house the hangar facilities. Since then workers from the Australian Temple-Island had been working to construct the various buildings necessary for the nascent facility. This weekend the tech experts from the African, American, and Paris teams had all agreed to portal to Australia together in order to work on building their first spacecraft. At the moment, Max’s design was little more than an empty hull. Although most of the internal systems had already been fabricated and installed, the interior layout was still incomplete. But from the outside it looked exactly the way that Max had envisioned, with long wings on either side of the spacious passenger compartment, swept up on either side to the same height as the tail. The exhaust cones for the main engine were already in place, though the engine itself had yet to be installed.</p><p class="Preference">The facility itself had come together much faster than Max had ever imagined. In addition to the shelters still being built, they already had the main hangar they were working in currently, with a laboratory complex set off to one side of the building. The briefing room mirroring the lab on the opposite side of the building had its own dedicated portal ring linked to one in New Atlantis. Outside they had a flat area for launching and landing the craft and a berm which would eventually house a portal ring large enough for the plane to fit through. For now, this would have to suffice.</p><p class="Preference">Mohamed glanced over from the lab table where he was testing the new engine fuel they had developed for their space-plane. “I wish we could place at least <em>part</em> of this facility in Somalia,” he commented. “It is a bit unfair that the Australians get to keep everything, even though all of us are contributing to it.”</p><p class="Preference">Cissy, the Australian tech expert, scoffed. “And where would you put it?” she asked rhetorically. “I’ve seen the pictures: <em>your</em> temple doesn’t have the space <em>or</em> the ventilation to house a spaceship! Would you launch it through your waterfall?” She glanced over at Max. “Try running that test again; maneuvering thruster four responded more slowly than the others, but I think I have it dialed in now.”</p><p class="Preference">Her Kwami, Webb, sat in front of a tablet set up on the table where the yet-to-be-installed maneuvering thrusters were spread out. “It looked like power was diverted from the fourth one to the sixth one,” he squeaked.</p><p class="Preference">Cissy glanced down at the thrusters in question and frowned. She picked one up, turned it over in her hand, and twisted a wire on the back before setting it down. She gave Max a nod.</p><p class="Preference">Max pressed a button on his computer and watched the thrusters adjust and move through the test. Cissy gave him a thumbs’ up, and he moved on to the defensive systems’ targeting software. “With the locations of all our temples,” he observed, raising an eyebrow, “I am simply grateful to our Australian friends for agreeing to set this area aside for us. I doubt I could have convinced Cat Noir to construct something like this in his attic!”</p><p class="Preference">Cissy shrugged and tossed her wrench in the air. “Our Guardians were somewhat hesitant to accept your Ladybug’s proposal,” she admitted. “Although it helped to have definitive proof of alien life to show them.” She glanced at Victor and flushed. “No offense.”</p><p class="Preference">Victor nodded in resignation and shrugged. “None taken. Although I am starting to feel more sympathy for the performing dingoppers in the zoo back home…”</p><p class="Preference">Mohamed gave him a look. “The what now?”</p><p class="Preference">“‘Dingoppers’,” repeated Victor. “It’s a… <em>canine</em>, I guess you’d call it? Six legs, moves by jumping on the two rear pairs. The trainers teach them to perform tricks.” His eyes narrowed in confusion. “You don’t have anything like that here?”</p><p class="Preference">“Not exactly, there, sport,” Cissy replied wryly, laughing in bemusement. “Though it sounds a little like a kangaroo.”</p><p class="Preference">“In the wild, they can devour an entire hympophan herd in an hour.”</p><p class="Preference">“I assume that’s a lot?”</p><p class="Preference">Victor nodded. “An adult hympophan is about seven meters long, stands four meters tall, and could weigh up to probably ten tons. A herd might have half a million animals.”</p><p class="Preference">Cissy let out a low whistle. “Okay, yeah, that’s impressive, even by <em>Australian</em> standards!” she observed shaking her head. “And I should know: <em>everything</em> in Australia is designed to kill you!”</p><p class="Preference">“I am grateful for your group allowing us to set this up here,” Max told her.</p><p class="Preference">“I am, too,” she agreed, nodding. “I’m glad the Guardians’ Council listened to reason!”</p><p class="Preference">“So why didn’t they want it here?” asked Mohamed.</p><p class="Preference">“The island has relatively little arable land,” Cissy explained, “and while this plot itself isn’t especially good for farming, it’s very close to one of our most prosperous fields. There is still some concern about the environmental impact of ships taking off and landing here. And while we are remote, there is still the possibility of people seeing a ship’s launch.”</p><p class="Preference">“They have nothing to concern themselves with,” Mohamed assured her. He held up a beaker and swirled the clear liquid around. “This is the cleanest-burning fuel there is, and even that is only primarily for maneuvering. The nuclear engine that provides the thrust is perfectly safe for the environment.”</p><p class="Preference">“As long as it doesn’t melt down,” Cissy noted, eyeing the unconstructed reactor shell dubiously.</p><p class="Preference">“Obviously.”</p><p class="Preference">“Even so,” Max responded, “the maneuvering thrusters will suffice to get the ship through the portal; the nuclear engine will not be necessary until it is outside of Earth’s atmosphere. And while there is the possibility of an emergency landing, under ordinary circumstances there is zero chance of observation.”</p><p class="Preference">Cissy nodded. “The Guardians understand that, which is the only reason they agreed to this!” She frowned. “However, this does seem like a significant outpouring of resources from all of the miraculous teams.” She nodded toward the other three shelters which workers were in the process of constructing on either side of the landing strip. “I get that space travel is exciting, and now we know of at least two aliens living on Earth, but why put so much effort into the spaceport? Why put in the infrastructure for multiple space-planes when we don’t even know if this one will work yet?”</p><p class="Preference">Max frowned. “Truthfully I was not expecting it, either,” he admitted. “However, Ladybug and Cat Noir recently informed us that they had traveled to an alternate future, set 20 years ahead of our own timeline, last year.”</p><p class="Preference">“They saw the future,” Mohamed deadpanned, giving him a dubious look. “And I’m Dumbo!”</p><p class="Preference">Max shook his head. “Not strictly speaking,” he explained. “<em>That</em> future is not <em>our</em> future; it is a <em>possible</em> future. According to them, some elements of it have come to pass, while others have not. But one element which they wish to avoid is that in this parallel future the Earth was invaded by aliens on at least one occasion.”</p><p class="Preference">Mnemmi, Mohamed’s Kwami, looked up from his bowl of peanuts. “It has happened before. Aliens coming to Earth, I mean.”</p><p class="Preference">Mohamed stared at the Kwami in surprise.</p><p class="Preference">“Atlantis had a couple contacts with alien races,” Mnemmi explained. He gave Max a surprised look. “Kaalki never mentioned that?”</p><p class="Preference">“He never asked!” Kaalki squeaked, poking out from under the space-plane’s wing.</p><p class="Preference">Paola furrowed her brows. “I suppose that explains why your two were so insistent on this project,” she observed, nodding at the bubble turret on the ship’s underside. “And the militaristic nature of this craft.”</p><p class="Preference">“It certainly pays to be prepared,” Max agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Family Dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kagami brings Mira over for dinner with the Couffaines</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“Are you <em>sure</em> it’s okay for me to come?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami gave her companion a careful look and nodded insistently. Mira held a bottle of wine in one hand but had a troubled expression in her eyes, lagging back as they walked down the dock to the <em>Liberty</em>. “Of <em>course</em> you’re welcome,” Kagami assured her, grabbing her arm and dragging her behind her. “Anarka always has more than enough food. And you’re my friend – and Luka’s.”</p><p class="Preference">“Does he know my identity?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami shook her head. “I haven’t told him, although I think he’s guessed it. I – don’t like hiding it from him,” she admitted. “I’m not a huge fan of secrets, even if this one isn’t mine to tell.”</p><p class="Preference">Mira nodded. “Thanks for respecting my privacy.”</p><p class="Preference">“You’re welcome,” Kagami replied. “I don’t like keeping secrets from Luka… but I also – well, you know why I guard my identity so much, so I wouldn’t take that away from you.” She giggled. “Just remember, if my mother ever asks, this is a ‘business dinner’ and you’re my new ‘security consultant’ for the Le Havre concert!”</p><p class="Preference">Mira gave her a dubious look. “Do you expect trouble there?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smirked. “Well, considering that about half the band got attacked by someone using the Shark Miraculous the last time they were in Le Havre… yes,” she answered. “Although, I suppose I <em>should</em> say that <em>Paxx</em> is the ‘security consultant’ since it was a miraculous from her set; <em>you</em>’re just her chaperone!”</p><p class="Preference">Longg phased out of Kagami’s purse, followed by Mira’s Kwami, Paxx. Paxx giggled and fluttered over to nuzzle Mira’s hand. “You don’t have anything to worry about from Carro,” she told Kagami. “She’s perfectly happy at the Mansion.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, I know,” agreed Kagami, smiling. She raised an eyebrow at the Kwami. “Still, there are a few others from your miraculous set still out there, aren’t there?”</p><p class="Preference">Paxx frowned. “… A few.”</p><p class="Preference">Longg patted Kagami’s wrist and smiled benignly. “I hope you both enjoy your dinner! Paxx and I shall go and visit with the others.” Longg grabbed Paxx’s paw and sunk down to phase through the gangplank and then through the window into Luka and Juleka’s room.</p><p class="Preference">“‘Others’?” wondered Mira, cocking her head.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami stifled a laugh. “You didn’t think we’d be the only heroes here, did you?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira gave her a dubious look. “This is another one of those ‘everyone and their mother is a hero’ moments, isn’t it?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smirked. “As far as I know, Adrien’s the only one in Paris whose mother is a hero – well, him and Marco, but I don’t think that one counts!”</p><p class="Preference">Mira let out a snort of laughter that turned into a cough as they stepped off the gangplank onto the houseboat’s top deck. Soft guitar music wafted up from the bench where Luka and Juleka were playing a duet while Rose sat across from them and listened. Luka glanced up when they appeared, his mouth turning up into a bright smile as he met Kagami’s eye. She smiled back and waved for him to stay seated while Mira placed the wine bottle on the table between the benches. Mira took a seat on the same bench as Rose; Kagami dropped down into her accustomed place next to Luka. He stopped playing and rested his guitar on the deck while Juleka continued to play. Kagami leaned into his side and put her arm around his neck as he wrapped his own arm around her waist.</p><p class="Preference">“Hey,” he whispered quietly.</p><p class="Preference">“Hey.” She blushed a faint pink and rested her cheek on his shoulder.</p><p class="Preference">“I love your hair!” Rose gushed, turning to Mira.</p><p class="Preference">Mira smiled and ran a hand through her short ponytail. “Thanks! It’s so convenient. I really like your color. Mine looks so bleached out I think.”</p><p class="Preference">Rose giggled. “I’ve thought about growing it out, but this is just so much easier to manage.”</p><p class="Preference">“So we have a stowaway tonight!” Anarka appeared up the stairs from below-deck balancing a serving tray in her hands. “Juleka, haul up the bowl of salad on the counter downstairs. And Rose, grab the dishes and silverware.” She dropped her tray on the table as the girls raced down the stairs to obey. Anarka fixed her piercing gaze on Mira. “So what’s yer story? Where’re ye from?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira paled and gave Kagami a nervous look. Kagami stifled her laugh and gave her friend an encouraging smile. Mira let out a breath. “I’m from… all over. My mother moved around a lot,” she explained. “The five months I’ve been in Paris is almost the longest I’ve stayed in any one place in the last twelve years.”</p><p class="Preference">“Ah.” Anarka nodded knowingly. “A fellow wanderer! Going wherever the wind blows you.”</p><p class="Preference">“Something like that,” Mira agreed, raising an eyebrow at Kagami subtly.</p><p class="Preference">“How is your mother?” Kagami asked curiously. “You never talk about her.”</p><p class="Preference">“She’s…” Mira furrowed her brows. “… fine, I think. She retired back to Russia when I took over – that’s where my grandparents lived. We can’t really speak all that much, but I’ve sent her a postcard from everywhere I’ve been.”</p><p class="Preference">“Have you sent her one from Paris?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira shook her head. “When I leave – though she might already know I’m here.”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luka told her. He picked up his guitar and plucked a couple strings one-handed to form a sad melody.</p><p class="Preference">Mira shrugged. “It’s for the best.”</p><p class="Preference">“So where all have you made port?” asked Anarka as Juleka and Rose returned, setting the dishes and food on the table between them. Juleka dropped onto the bench opposite Luka and Kagami, and Rose snuggled up against her side. Anarka popped the cork on the wine bottle and started serving everyone while Mira thought pensively.</p><p class="Preference">“Let’s see… Russia… a little time in Japan… Mother spent a couple years wandering all over Africa… We were in America for a while…”</p><p class="Preference">“You’ve been everywhere!” Rose squealed, clapping in excitement. “That must be so much fun to travel all the time! I’d love to see the world more…”</p><p class="Preference">A shadow passed over Mira’s face, and Kagami quickly jumped in. “So with all that traveling, how many languages do you know?”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, a few…”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smirked. “More than me?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira’s eyes lit up. “Maybe. Let’s see… Russian?”</p><p class="Preference">“Sovsem nemnogo.” [“A little.”] Kagami laughed. “A classmate back in Japan came from Russia; she taught me a few words. Japanese?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira snorted. “Watashi wa neitibu no yō ni nihongo o hanashimasu!” [“I speak Japanese like a native!”] She frowned. “I already know you know Spanish… but what about Arabic?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami shook her head. “Chinese?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira nodded. “Jǐ jù huà.” [“A few words”] She hummed thoughtfully. “I also picked up a few words from a couple African languages growing up, also,” Mira went on. “Xhosa? Swahili? Oromo?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami shook her head ruefully. “That’s more than I know! How do you speak so many languages?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira shrugged. “Languages have just always come naturally to me,” she explained. “I suppose it helps to just get dropped in and have to learn it to survive!”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami hummed and gave the other woman a closer look. Mira was only a little older than her, but her mission had aged her so much…</p><p class="Preference">“I’d love to hear some of your stories,” Juleka observed, giving Mira a curious look. Beside her, Rose nodded eagerly.</p><p class="Preference">Mira furrowed her brows in thought and took a bite of food. “Well, there was one time I was in America – only for a couple months – and our apartment building was almost ripped out of the ground by a tornado!”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami’s jaw dropped. Beside her, Luka cocked his head in surprise. That sounded… of course. “Biānfú?” [“Bat?” – Chinese]</p><p class="Preference">Mira nodded, her jaw set firmly. “Hái yǒu shéi?” [“Who else?”]</p><p class="Preference">“Mne zhal'.” [“I’m sorry.” – Russian]</p><p class="Preference">Mira shrugged. “I was only two when it happened,” she explained. “I don’t remember much. Mama broke her wrist, but she protected me from the worst of it.”</p><p class="Preference">Anarka’s eyes drifted back and forth between Mira and Kagami, eyebrows furrowed. “So what did your mother <em>do</em>? What is it that <em>you</em> do that this is just… <em>normal</em>?”</p><p class="Preference">“Um… a little of everything,” replied Mira uncomfortably.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami’s eyes widened and she gave Luka a hard elbow in the ribs. Luka nodded subtly, coughed, and asked, “But what’s your favorite part of Paris?”</p><p class="Preference">Mira let out a breath and smiled. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know so many people. All of you and your friends are so nice. I… haven’t had that a lot. Normally I have to move on before I can really make friends, but here it’s been… different.”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smiled warmly. “I’m glad we’ve been able to make you feel at home!”</p><p class="Preference">They continued to eat while making small talk about Kitty Section’s upcoming concert, until the food was all gone and Luka stood up to start clearing the dishes. Rose pulled her feet up onto the bench and rested her head in Juleka’s lap.</p><p class="Preference">Mira smiled and let out a contented sigh. “This was such a nice evening; thank you so much for having me!”</p><p class="Preference">Anarka grinned before standing up to head below deck. “Yer always welcome on my boat! Any friend of Kagami’s is more than welcome!”</p><p class="Preference">“I’ll be sure to take you up on that,” Mira agreed as Anarka disappeared below. She glanced down at her watch and frowned. “I suppose it’s time to return home.”</p><p class="Preference">“Where are you staying?” asked Juleka.</p><p class="Preference">Mira shrugged. “Just the Agreste Mansion.”</p><p class="Preference">Juleka stared at Rose, both of their jaws hanging open. Rose pointed weakly at Mira. “So you’re…” Her voice trailed off. “Oh… <em>that</em>’s… I–I’m sorry…”</p><p class="Preference">Mira nodded easily, an amused smile on her lips, before giving Kagami a deadpan look.</p><p class="Preference">“So ‘everyone and their <em>mother</em>’ isn’t a hero…” Kagami told her, smirking. “Just… <em>everyone</em>!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Concert</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kagami and Mylène help out at Kitty Section's concert in Le Havre</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This pays off one of the “B plots” from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515076/chapters/61903468">“The Heart of the Storm.”</a> It takes place in the few weeks between <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630071/chapters/67600745">"A Bees' Life"</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894199/chapters/68304304">"Guys' Day Out"</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“Enjoy the concert!” Kagami let out a slow breath as another group of teenagers drifted away from the merchandise table and back toward the stage they had set up at the far end of the private beach for Kitty Section’s concert. She allowed herself a small smile as she consulted the inventory figures on her tablet. Between the sales in-person today and online downloads – to say nothing of ticket sales – the band had more than recouped the rental costs for the equipment and the beach. While Luka had never even considered the possibility, she at least had been concerned that this concert might <em>cost</em> Kitty Section money rather than <em>earn</em> them money.</p><p class="Preference">Of course, their biggest moneymaker so far was definitely the merchandise.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette had designed a few new shirts for the band, which Agreste sold to them at a steep discount (it helped that the company’s owner was also the band’s keyboardist). Juleka and Rose had convinced Nathaniel to produce a few posters, which Tsurugi had printed in bulk. Then they had their CDs. A glance down the table showed that while most of the physical CDs they had brought with them were still there – digital sales had still skyrocketed in the hours since they began their setup that morning – the T-shirts and posters were selling extremely well. One of the posters, an individual shot showing Luka with his guitar, had nearly sold out. Kagami smiled, heat rising in her cheeks. That was one of her favorites, also; she had the original hanging in her bedroom.</p><p class="Preference">“Do we have more of the original T-shirt design?” asked Mylène, glancing over from the other end of the table.</p><p class="Preference">“Hang on,” Kagami replied, ducking under the table. Longg slipped surreptitiously out of her pocket and phased through four of the boxes while Kagami checked the last one. Longg popped out at the end of the line and flicked his tail toward the third box. She dragged that box out and plopped it down on the table before tearing it open to inspect the contents. “There aren’t too many left in here,” she reported. “But if we run out, we can still take orders online.”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s amazing how well this one is selling!” Mylène squealed enthusiastically as the two girls dumped the t-shirts on the table and stacked them by size. A family passing by stopped to purchase matching shirts.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami grinned. “That’s probably because it’s the one <em>you</em>’re wearing! That’s the most effective marketing out there.”</p><p class="Preference">“Probably,” Mylène conceded, blushing. “This one is my favorite.” She gave Kagami a glance out of the corner of her eye. “So if that’s so important, why aren’t <em>you</em> wearing a Kitty Section T-shirt?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami’s cheeks grew warm. “I did bring one,” she admitted, “and I almost wore it, too – I had it on this morning. But this is a shirt Marinette designed for me, and Luka really likes it. He asked if I’d wear it today since it ‘inspires’ him, so I accommodated.”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s very nice,” Mylène told her, examining the serpentine pattern more closely. She turned her head to show off her kerchief – royal blue with highlights in grey and pink. “Marinette gave me this on the first day of school this year. An anniversary gift, since Ivan and I started dating on the first day of school.”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami furrowed her brow as she took in the pattern. Something about it felt familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it… The strains of Kitty Section’s first song drifted over to them, drawing her mind off of the pattern. Absently she started humming along with it.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène bobbed her head to the music. “This is one of my favorites of Luka’s recent songs,” she commented.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami blushed and nodded her agreement. “This is definitely my favorite Kitty Section song,” she agreed.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène gave her a closer look before breaking down in a fit of giggles. “It’s so cute that he wrote this for you!” she gushed. Kagami raised her eyebrows in surprise. “The look,” Mylène explained, though her smile shifted slowly into a look of confusion. “Didn’t he play this back in the spring? Before you started dating?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami shrugged. He had played the first version of her song at the Agreste Gala back in the spring, but neither of them had realized it at the time – mostly because he’d written it for <em>Ryoku</em>, not <em>Kagami</em>. “We’d been friends for such a long time then,” she replied. “I just didn’t realize how much he liked me or my own feelings for him until we came up here together over the summer.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s so romantic!” Mylène sighed. “Ivan and I started dating because of the first song he ever wrote for me,” she confided. “Though not until after he got Akumatized over it.” She smiled wistfully. “For as upset as I was then, for as humiliating as it was to find out he’d been Akumatized because of me, I’m kind of glad. Who knows when we would have gotten together otherwise? It’s wonderful when he writes songs for me now.”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smiled. “Ivan really is a talented musician,” she observed.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène nodded in agreement. “His singing can still use some work,” she admitted. She giggled and gave Kagami a playful look. “But that’s the case for almost anyone next to <em>Luka</em>!”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami laughed but turned away from Mylène and back toward her tablet to hide her burning cheeks as the line of customers picked up again. She hadn’t been sure what to expect from this trip, especially since Marinette hadn’t been able to come due to a big project at Agreste. She and Mylène had spent time together a few times in the past, but not terribly often, and rarely as just the two of them. But all the same, Kagami was glad she had come along on the trip – and not just because she was Kitty Section’s publicist, or because it was an entire weekend she could spend with Luka without her mother nearby. There was something nice about working with Mylène at the merchandise table.</p><p class="Preference">The rest of the concert passed in a blur as Kagami and Mylène were swamped with customers looking to buy merchandise. By the time the band played their encore, they had sold out most of their shirts and only had a couple of the posters left. When the band members started signing autographs by the stage, the rest of the merchandise sold out, leaving the two girls with nothing to do but start packing up the tables.</p><p class="Preference">While carrying the tables to the truck to return them to the rental store, Kagami gave Mylène a smile and said, “This was fun! We really need to hang out more often.”</p><p class="Preference">“Definitely!” Mylène agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Beam of Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Heroes don't always use military-grade hardware to punch things...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All the characters in here are from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262468/chapters/66603223">“The Hound and the Maiden.”</a> Bri (short for Bridgette) is the eponymous (Iron) Maiden from that story, while the Hound is Felix. Anne is Bri’s flatmate at King’s College.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Friday afternoon, and the day’s classes were finished. Bri had spent all day working indoors, and she absolutely needed this break, walking alongside the Thames in the warm sunshine. Bri took a deep breath of the riverside air, a welcome change from the stuffy library where she had spent half the morning researching a paper. And for as many improvements as she had made to her Iron Maiden suit, she still hadn’t found a good filtration system to prevent it from smelling like a strange mix of the industrial lubricant she used on the joints and the jetpack’s exhaust. “It’s so nice down here by the river,” she commented, smiling.</p><p>Her companion let out a snort. “You must be mad if you think <em>this</em> is nice!” Anne laughed. “Paris must be a complete haymes in that case…”</p><p>Bri gave her a playful glare. “Paris isn’t <em>that</em> bad; the Seine is pretty nice most of the time. But after spending so much time inside the last couple months, I almost forgot what fresh air smells like.”</p><p>“Spending time ‘inside’, you say?” asked Anne in a singsong voice. “Your ‘special project’?” She elbowed Bri in the ribs. “You still haven’t introduced me to this fella of yours yet, girl!”</p><p>Bri rolled her eyes affectionately. “And you’re not <em>going</em> to meet him – if he even exists,” she added quickly, when Anne’s eyes lit up in excitement.</p><p>“If you say so…” Anne replied dubiously. “You sure are spending a lot of time with him – whoever he is.”</p><p>Bri nodded ruefully. With the Hound off at school now – Eton if she read him right – she was going out to patrol around London almost every night. A couple weekends ago, not long after the Hound had left for school, Pegasus had brought her to Heroes of Paris’ Headquarters via portal for a few hours. He had presented her with an alien energy device to test out for her own projects and added her into the Heroes of Paris’ contact system. She in turn had given him a copy of her jetpack’s schematic since the Heroes were working on their own version. Before she’d left, he had mentioned the Heroes’ portal system and that he was working on a compact version of the portal rings. Unfortunately, he hadn’t finished it just yet. For now, the Hound could only be in London on weekends, leaving her to take up the slack in looking for the Stripper Ripper and making sure her father really had returned to Paris. So, ironically, she actually <em>wasn’t</em> spending a lot of time with her “fella”!</p><p>Anne eyed her carefully and sighed. “Well, whoever he is, I hope he’s worth it.” She picked up a tree branch and lobbed it out into the river. “One of these weekends I’ll have to bring you home. Then you’ll see what <em>real</em> green is! None of this London smog.”</p><p>Bri smiled easily. “A weekend away would be nice… but probably not <em>too</em> soon. Midterms?” she explained, seeing the confused look in her flatmate’s face.</p><p>Anne nodded in realization and opened her mouth to add something else when they heard a colossal screech. Bri winced and brought her hands up to cover her ears, spinning around to find the source of the noise. Suddenly there was a crash a couple blocks away, coming from around the corner. Bri took off at a dead sprint in that direction.</p><p>“Wait… Bri!” Anne’s footsteps pounded on the sidewalk behind Bri as she glanced in both directions before darting out across the street. Tires screeched as the car coming from the right braked. Bri flicked her wrist, and the control for her right bracelet sprang out and into her hand. Before she could do anything, the car pulled to an abrupt stop, less than a meter away. Bri didn’t slow down, running across with Anne following hard on her heels.</p><p>They rounded the corner where the car crash – it had to have been a car crash – had happened, to see a minivan had slammed into a streetlamp. The pole had sheared off and fallen over on top of the vehicle, whose front had compacted in the impact. The electrical wires had snapped, and electricity arced across the wires. Inside, Bri could see a woman in the driver’s seat, three children in the back. The children all wore identical expressions of terror, but their seatbelts had kept them safe. The mother, however, was coughing weakly, one of her arms at an odd angle. There was a small pool of gasoline forming under the van.</p><p>“Call 999!” Bri shouted at Anne, who stared wide-eyed. She shook her head abruptly and pulled out her cell phone. Bri ran over to the car and pounded frantically on the driver’s door. “Hey! Ma’am! Can you open the door? You need to get out!”</p><p>The woman, however, continued staring at her broken arm, blinking in confusion. Turning to the back seat, Bri looked for whichever child was the oldest, a girl who looked to be about six. “Sweetheart,” she called urgently, “are you okay in there?”</p><p>“M–mommy’s hurt!” The girl sniffed and rubbed her eye.</p><p>Bri put on her most soothing voice. “I know, sweetie, and I need to help her. Can you help me?”</p><p>“I–I…”</p><p>Bri grimaced and closed her eyes in frustration. Opening them she smiled calmly. “Okay, I need you to be a big girl; can you do that? I need you to cover your brothers’ eyes and close your eyes, okay? This is going to get really bright…”</p><p>The little girl nodded, and Bri pulled a pair of glasses from her pocket – she’d accidentally taken them from the Engineering building after class. Settling them on her nose she quickly adjusted a couple settings on her right bracelet and pulled a leather sheath out of the top. The leather covered her clenched fist, and she squeezed, deploying the small energy pistol barrel built into the side of the bracelet. Lowering the power level to the lowest setting, she placed the barrel as close to the door hinge as she could and turned it on. Sweat sprang to her brow the moment the heat from the energy beam reflected off the door and hit her face. She wiped her forehead with her shoulder as the top hinge disconnected and she moved on to the bottom one. Less than thirty seconds later she felt the hinge snap and smacked the door. It fell out with a thud. The children’s seatbelts stuck tight, and Bri groaned. Someone punched her shoulder, and she looked to find Anne holding up a small pocketknife. Bri nodded and moved to work on the driver’s door while Anne cut through the seatbelts and pulled the kids out. Gasoline was continuing to pool around Bri’s feet. But a fire truck pulled up just as she helped the mother out of the van, having already retracted the energy barrel and sheath back into her bracelet. She let out a sigh of relief as the fire-fighters doused the gasoline with fire suppressant and disconnected the sparking wires.</p><p>A paramedic came over to check out the driver, who seemed dazed. He hummed. “Lacerations, compound fracture, possible concussion… Still, it could have been so much worse. Thank you both,” he told Bri and Anne.</p><p>Bri nodded and stood up. A fire-fighter came over with a confused look in his eyes. “How did you get them out of the vehicle so quickly?”</p><p>Bri tried not to let her nervousness show and shrugged noncommittally. “We just… happened to be in the right place at the right time. Sometimes a problem just has an engineering solution.”</p><p>Anne put a hand on Bri’s shoulder. “My friend’s an Engineering major at King’s,” she supplied quickly. “The girl’s got a knack for this kind of thing.”</p><p>“Can I take your names for follow-up?”</p><p>Bri frowned. “I’d… prefer to stay anonymous. Just a good Samaritan in the right place at the right time.”</p><p>When the fire-fighter acquiesced with a shrug, Anne carefully guided them away from the crash scene, down to the river, and a couple blocks back toward the college before directing Bri to sit on a bench. She sat down next to her and folded her arms, brows furrowed. “Okay, girl, I didn’t say anything back there, but… what was that?”</p><p>Bri looked down at her bracelet and shrugged. “It’s just a new feature I’m trying out on my bracelet.”</p><p>Anne arched an eyebrow dubiously. “A wrist-mounted energy weapon,” she deadpanned.</p><p>“Some days you just need a handheld plasma torch!” joked Bri, laughing evasively. “Today just happened to be one of those days.”</p><p>“Uh huh.” Anne shook her head. “Just promise me I won’t come home to find my bed on fire?”</p><p>Bri tapped her chin thoughtfully. “That depends.”</p><p>“On?”</p><p>She smirked. “On whether you steal my clothes!”</p><p>With a laugh, they both stood up and turned back toward the college. “Well, I think that’s enough fun for one day,” Anne observed.</p><hr/><p>That evening, Bri was in her workshop, tweaking the circuitry in her bracelet where a connection had melted that afternoon, when her phone rang. She hit the speakerphone on her other bracelet without looking away from her work. “What’s up, Dog?”</p><p>The Hound chuckled on the other end of the line. “I just thought I would give my <em>Fer</em> Maiden a ring and see how <em>you</em> are doing,” he replied. “After all, I heard about what you did for that family this afternoon.”</p><p>Bri frowned in confusion. “Who told you that was me?”</p><p>He laughed. “You did, just now, <em>mon cher</em>.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “You Mangy Mutt. You just assumed.”</p><p>“And clearly I assumed correctly. So…?”</p><p>She sighed in resignation. “I’m good. I didn’t give them my name. But my flatmate was there and I think she suspects something.”</p><p>“Do you trust her?”</p><p>“I mean, I’ve only known her a couple months, but yes.”</p><p>He hummed. “My housemates think I must be hiding a hamster in my room, what with all the food that keeps disappearing.”</p><p>She giggled and raised an eyebrow. “There are worse things you could be hiding in your room, I suppose. Are you in London yet?”</p><p>“En route. I will take tonight and tomorrow, of course, but I’ll be returning to school Sunday afternoon.”</p><p>“That’s fine.”</p><p>“Oh! Before I forget, Pegasus asked you to give him a call, if that really was you. The Ladyblog picked up the rescue – no pictures of you but a description of what you did,” he assured her. “If you’re interested, the Heroes will help you manufacture and sell a commercial version of the ‘Beam of Life.’”</p><p>She stopped what she was doing and stared at the bracelet dubiously. “They do realize this is a wrist-mounted, military-grade energy weapon, right? And they want to sell it? To <em>people</em>? Have they lost their minds?”</p><p>“I assume if you sell it, it <em>won’t</em> be a military-grade energy weapon anymore. And that you and Pegasus can figure out how to modify it so it can’t be reverse-engineered <em>into</em> a weapon,” the Hound pointed out. “And I think they’re most interested in providing it to fire and emergency, not your average Joe-on-the-street.”</p><p>“What’s the catch?”</p><p>“You mean other than the fact that this is guaranteed to make you stupid-rich? Rich enough to make your next suit out of pure gold?” he asked wryly. “None that they told me: they’ll take care of manufacturing and distributing, keep your identity secret as long as you wish, give you half the profits, and use part of the other half to fund a portal system so you’re not out on your own during the week.”</p><p>Bri hummed in contemplation. When her father had asked the same question about the original bracelet design, she had blown him off – and for good reason, she still thought. But now? With the Heroes of Paris? She shrugged. “I’ll talk to Pegasus about it. But I make no promises.”</p><p>“That’s all they ask.”</p><p>“Oh?” She smirked. “And what about you, Pup?”</p><p>He chuckled. “I mean, if you’re half as smart as you pretend to be, you know it would be stupid not to consider it – this kind of opportunity doesn’t come around all that often.” He was quiet for a moment. “But it’s entirely up to you. I understand, what with… yeah. I understand your reluctance. But it <em>can</em> save lives – and make you rich in the process. But it’s <em>your</em> device, so it’s not my call.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Bri resealed her bracelet’s shell and snapped it back on her wrist before running the built-in diagnostic and testing its functions. Looking at the time, it was getting late; the sun would be down sooner than she would like to be out walking alone. “Well, have a good patrol, Hound.”</p><p>“Enjoy your weekend off, <em>mon Fer</em>,” he replied. “I’d say you more than earned it!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. An Interrupted Walk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kim and Ondine are on a walk when things start blowing up. Good thing there's a hero nearby, right? Oh, wait: that's him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“I’m just saying,” Kim insisted, grinning, “there’s no way to know for sure until we try!”</p><p class="Preference">Ondine snorted and gave him a dubious look. “You don’t actually <em>need</em> to try first to know for certain,” she told him. “There is no way you’re swimming all the way from here to Source-Seine without stopping!”</p><p class="Preference">“Aw,” Kim moaned. “But if I do it you’ll come with me, right?”</p><p class="Preference">“Of course,” she agreed. She sniggered. “I’ll drive alongside the river and fish you out when you pass out from exhaustion!”</p><p class="Preference">The two of them were walking along the path by the Seine, almost directly underneath the Eiffel Tower. It was a warm early autumn afternoon, one of the last before autumn would begin in earnest. Although he still had homework to do for classes tomorrow, it was much too nice out to spend the rest of the day trapped inside. He would bug Max to help him tonight. Max always insisted that one of these days he would refuse to help him, but so far it had proven to be nothing but empty threats. Kim draped his arm over Ondine’s shoulder, and in response she looped her arm around his back.</p><p class="Preference">“We need to do this more often,” she told him, turning and kissing him on the cheek.</p><p class="Preference">He grinned. “When the swimming season is over, we can–” A distinctive chime came from his pocket and he froze, eyes widening. Kim fished around in his pocket for his phone, only to nearly drop it when something on the far side of the park exploded with a seismic BOOM! The ground beneath them shook.</p><p class="Preference">Without thinking, Kim pulled Ondine close and pushed her down, placing himself between her and the explosion. “Dammit!” he shouted, holding her head down and glaring in the direction of the disturbance. Ondine pressed into his chest, covering her ears with her hands. Xuppu phased his head out of Kim’s sweatshirt hood and met his eye, the Kwami’s face set seriously. “I guess we know what the alert’s about,” Kim muttered. Despite the ringing in his ears he could hear the discharge of energy weapons from near where the explosion had happened. He glanced down at Ondine, wrapped his arms around her tightly and pulled her up. Looking around, he saw a restroom near the river, surrounded by bushes on three sides. “Come on!” He grabbed Ondine’s hand and half-dragged her behind the restroom. Traffic screeched along the streets, and over it he could hear something else he didn’t recognize.</p><p class="Preference">Kim crouched behind the restroom, pulling Ondine down next to him, below the level of the bushes. He took a slow and steady breath and finally became aware that his phone had been going off this entire time. He looked down at Ondine and grimaced before straightening up.</p><p class="Preference">“Wait… Kim!” She stared at him in shock, eyes wide open. “Where are you going?”</p><p class="Preference">“Stay here!” he told her, holding a hand out as she started to rise. “I’ll be back soon.” Another explosion rocked the building behind them.</p><p class="Preference">“Please! Don’t leave me!” she begged, grabbing his hand, clutching it tight.</p><p class="Preference">Kim blanched on seeing the pleading look in her eyes. He could remember, back during Hawk Moth’s reign, there had been one time they’d been forced to take shelter together when an Akuma appeared at one of their swimming meets. She had been terrified, flashing back to the Syren aftermath, when she had awoken to discover what she had done and tried to do. That time he hadn’t left her side until Ladybug fixed everything. But now… “I–I’m sorry,” he said, wincing with every word. “I… I have to go to the bathroom!” He pulled his hand away, jumped out from behind the bushes, and sprinted toward the street where he could still hear repeated energy blasts going off.</p><p class="Preference">“You realize that was the absolute dumbest excuse you could possibly have used, right?” Xuppu asked him, raising an eyebrow in amusement as he drifted out of Kim’s hood and floated along next to his ear. “You were standing right <em>next</em> to a bathroom!”</p><p class="Preference">“Not now, Banana Breath!” grumbled Kim, finally silencing his phone as he read the alert notification. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “‘Superhero Liaison Department officers engaging unidentifiable threat.’ What the hell does <em>that</em> mean?”</p><p class="Preference">The ground under Kim’s feet shook with another explosion.</p><p class="Preference">“At a guess, I’d say it means you gotta get over there and figure <em>out</em> what that means, Chief!” observed Xuppu wryly.</p><p class="Preference">“We’d better get this over with and get back quick!” Kim ducked behind a line of bushes, checked in both directions, and shouted, “Xuppu, Show time!” The moment he was transformed, King Monkey raced out of his hiding spot and launched into the air, grabbing a branch of the closest tree and throwing himself across the gap to the next one, angling higher into the trees’ branches with each jump. Reaching the edge of the park he took another enormous leap, cleared the street, and landed on the roof of a building opposite the park. Below him the street had been mostly cleared. Four police officers had arrived already: one stood near his car at the far end of the block, stopping traffic and clearing out the civilians. Another officer was doing the same thing on the opposite side of the block. Of the final two officers, one was carefully picking her way down the street, moving between cover toward the source of the disturbance. At the same time the other, whom King Monkey recognized from the Heroes’ briefing on the new department, had taken shelter behind his police car and was exchanging energy blasts from his prosthetic arm with something that took up most of the street. King Monkey stared at the massive blob, his jaw hanging open in confusion. Wide, round, and semi-transparent, it resembled nothing so much as a jellyfish merged with a beach ball. On top of it were two protrusions that could have been eye stalks. Long spindly arms extended from its sides and sent electric shocks coursing down the street in all directions. One arm landed on a nearby parked car which exploded, sending molten plastic and metal in all directions.</p><p class="Preference">King Monkey extracted a communicator from his staff, rammed it into his ear, and pressed a button on the end of the staff to shift to the preprogrammed Liaison Department frequency.</p><p class="Preference">“Ray, Roux keep the streets clear!” a gruff voice shouted. “Gouger, for heaven’s sake, don’t let it see you!”</p><p class="Preference">“Lieutenant Ramus,” King Monkey began, “what’s the situation? What the <em>hell</em> is this thing?”</p><p class="Preference">“Who is this?” the same voice responded instantly. Ramus ducked behind his car to avoid a flying arm.</p><p class="Preference">“King Monkey. I’m on the building above you, looking down at something that probably escaped from an acid trip somewhere!” As he watched, the lieutenant shot the tentacle over his head with an energy blast. The tentacle retracted, and he came back up, resting his arm on the car’s hood and sighting down it.</p><p class="Preference">The other officer dove for cover behind a car close to the creature’s back, extracting a pair of batons from her belt. “I’m in position, LT,” Sergeant de Gouges reported. “Just give me a signal.”</p><p class="Preference">“Stay there!” Ramus ordered. “A genetics lab reported a sample missing a while back,” he quickly explained, firing at one of the creature’s eye stalks. “Prefect already put in a call to find out if this could be connected.” Another car exploded. Lieutenant Ramus dove to the other side of the car and raised his prosthetic arm over his head, deploying a small metal fan-shield from the prosthetic to block flying debris. “We could <em>really</em> use the cavalry right about now!”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, so far it’s just me here,” King Monkey told him, watching the creature closely.</p><p class="Preference">“You’re not the only one, Monkey Brains,” another voice called as Sk8r Girl skidded to a stop next to Lieutenant Ramus, wearing a green-and-black exercise suit. She gasped audibly over the communicator. “Um… What kind of shit did you get us into!?!”</p><p class="Preference">“It wasn’t <em>me</em>!!!” retorted King Monkey.</p><p class="Preference">“Uh huh.” She snorted. “Are you telling me this <em>isn’t</em> the result of that bet this morning that you could eat 63 tacos <em>and</em> 3 gallons of ice cream in under 10 minutes?”</p><p class="Preference">“Hey, I <em>won</em> that bet fair and square,” King Monkey insisted, grinning.</p><p class="Preference">“You <em>still</em> didn’t answer the question, Jo–” One of the creature’s arms shot out at Sk8r Girl, who batted it away with her baseball bat.</p><p class="Preference">“Can you two focus!?!” Lieutenant Ramus demanded as the arm almost struck him in the side.</p><p class="Preference">“Pity we didn’t get Cat Noir and Geber this time,” de Gouges groaned, hitting a button on her batons to test the taser.</p><p class="Preference">“Hey!” King Monkey scoffed indignantly. He narrowed his eyes, examining the creature closely. “Can you try talking to it?” he asked Sk8r Girl. “Maybe your thing will work on it.”</p><p class="Preference">“Hey, gee, why didn’t <em>I</em> think of that?” she responded sardonically. “Does this <em>look</em> like my normal gear, dumbass? My usual helmet’s back home.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh. Right.” He hummed as another electrical discharge connected with the streetlight behind the creature. The bulb exploded, sending a cascade of sparks over the street. De Gouges dove to one side to avoid falling glass. “Maybe I can disrupt its electric power long enough to subdue it,” he finally suggested. “Keep it distracted so I can get close.”</p><p class="Preference">“You got it.” Sk8r Girl sprang to her feet, planted one hand on the police car’s hood, and swung over it, holding her bat over her head with the other hand. Landing on the other side of the car she put on a burst of speed that took her to the right. De Gouges broke from cover, dove forward, and jabbed the creature in the back with both batons, sending an arc of electricity emanating through its body from that spot. At the same moment, Lieutenant Ramus ran out from behind his car, angling to the left and firing a steady stream of energy at the creature’s middle. The energy beams struck the creature and dissipated across its body, shifting its colors through the full light spectrum. The creature moved forward, swinging its arms in all directions. Sk8r Girl ducked the first one and smacked the second away with her bat. One arm caught de Gouges off-guard, struck her square across the chest, and launched her backward. She slammed her back into the brick wall of the building behind her, on the opposite side of the street from King Monkey. The bricks crumbled behind her as she fell to the ground, but she pushed herself to her feet, shook her head once, and frowned at her broken batons.</p><p class="Preference">King Monkey lowered himself over the edge of the roof, holding on by his fingertips, and lined himself up with the ground-level awning beneath. Taking a deep breath, he let go and dropped the three floors to the bottom. He coiled his legs as he hit the awning and bounced off of it, springing up into the air and sailing over the creature. “Uproar!” he shouted, holding his staff up. One of the creature’s eye stalks turned to look at him and a tentacle reached for him. Lieutenant Ramus shot the tentacle, and the creature let out a roar. Kim Monkey looked up, and a flyswatter appeared next to his hand. He grabbed the flyswatter out of the air, landed on his feet behind the creature, flipped over a swinging arm, and smacked the creature with the Uproar-flyswatter.</p><p class="Preference">The creature let out a bellow and burst apart in a shower of pinkish-grey goo.</p><p class="Preference">King Monkey held up his arms to block the goo from hitting his face, but that was all he saved. Looking around, everything visible was covered in it. Sk8r Girl had taken cover behind a smoldering car to escape the worst of it. Lieutenant Ramus and Sergeant de Gouges, however, had both taken direct hits; their uniforms were coated in sticky goo. “Or… um… <em>that</em>… could happen…” King Monkey blinked hard.</p><p class="Preference">With his good hand Lieutenant Ramus wiped the sludge off the front of his uniform and tried to flick it off. “Thank you both,” he finally said, making a face and staring at his gooey hand. “We’ll… vacuum all of this up and let you know what the crime lab comes up with.”</p><p class="Preference">King Monkey chuckled ruefully. “I can’t exactly say I’m <em>excited</em> to find out, but you’ve at least piqued my curiosity.”</p><p class="Preference">“Pegasus will hear from us as soon as we have anything,” Lieutenant Ramus promised, nodding.</p><p class="Preference">King Monkey nodded in return and jogged away, Sk8r Girl keeping up with him easily. Once they were back in the park, Sk8r Girl picked up her backpack from behind a bush, slid her baseball bat into its compartment, and retracted the darkened face shield on her helmet. She shook her head from side to side and stretched her shoulders. “That was a workout and a half,” she observed.</p><p class="Preference">King Monkey de-transformed. “I’ll say,” he agreed, groaning. He turned back toward the bathroom where he had left Ondine. She was not going to be happy with him for leaving her like that.</p><p class="Preference">“Did you know you could make things explode?” Alix asked as she followed him.</p><p class="Preference">“That’s the thing,” he replied, pulling a bag of dried fruit out of his sweatshirt pocket for Xuppu. “I <em>can’t</em>. Uproar disrupts abnormal abilities; it doesn’t disrupt the one using them. Right?”</p><p class="Preference">Xuppu furrowed his brows. “It burst? That’s not normal. Musta been <em>awesome</em> when it happened, though!”</p><p class="Preference">“It was something, all right,” Alix agreed. “So does that mean the whole thing was abnormal?”</p><p class="Preference">Kim shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know. It sure seemed pretty abnormal to <em>me</em>…”</p><p class="Preference">“Whatever it was, that’s a hell of a story to tell!” Alix laughed.</p><p class="Preference">“Alix?” They had arrived in front of the bathroom building, and Ondine stood in the bushes, a worried look in her eyes as she hugged her chest.</p><p class="Preference">Kim walked straight over her and pulled her into a hug. He could feel the tension in her muscles. “Hey,” he whispered soothingly. “Everything’s okay now.”</p><p class="Preference">“I was worried,” she whispered back, her hands snaking up his back. “You were gone and there were these explosions and–” She stopped. “What’s this in your <em>hair</em>?”</p><p class="Preference">Kim leaned back slightly and grimaced on seeing the goop on Ondine’s hand. “Yeah…” He chuckled in embarrassment. “I might’ve gotten caught up in that incident. But everything’s fine now.”</p><p class="Preference">Ondine narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips, her eyes darting over his shoulder, before leaning in and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.</p><p class="Preference">“Me, too,” he agreed fervently.</p><p class="Preference">“You should probably wash that out,” she told him, pointing at his hair.</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah, probably.”</p><p class="Preference">She gave him a deadpan look. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”</p><p class="Preference">He grinned and released her. “Yes, ma’am.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lieutenant Ramus has made a couple previous appearances. He’s the officer who got shot in the arm in <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066554/chapters/63894613">“The Battle for the Seine”</a> (that’s why Pegasus made him the prosthetic), and in <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630071/chapters/67855280">“A Bees’ Life”</a> he’s the one who responded to Chloe’s emergency call. The other officers mentioned are members of Roger’s Superhero Liaison Department. I have a bunch of ideas for that series (probably a series of three-shots, but I’m not sure yet), with two written so far. The first will be published after “Fear Itself.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Fairy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"That little girl has a <em>what did you say</em>????"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one-shot was inspired by a review StarDaPanda225 (on FF.net) left on “It Came from Outer Space” wondering what would happen if a child found a miraculous and didn’t understand what a Kwami was.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Lise spread her blanket on the grass and set her bakery bag of pastries on one end next to her book, <em>The Hunchback of Notre Dame</em>. She had never actually read it before, but since she was living in Paris, it seemed high time for her to actually read one of the books for which the city was best known – especially since Notre Dame Cathedral was one of their most common meeting places for patrols. Marco had made a beeline over to the playground as soon as they arrived, where a group of other children his age were running around and playing tag under the watchful eyes of a group of parents. As she watched, he caught one little girl, tagged her, and ran off giggling, with her chasing after him. He stumbled and landed on his bottom, and the girl tagged him back. He sat where he’d landed and folded his arms in a pout, but presently stood up, looked around, and ran off to chase another boy.</p><p class="Preference">Russa phased out of the bag, a mini-scone in her paws, and sat down on the blanket next to Lise to eat, humming quietly to herself.</p><p class="Preference">“I hope you left a few for me,” Lise teased her Kwami.</p><p class="Preference">Russa giggled. “There may be a few crumbs left!”</p><p class="Preference">“How sweet of you.” Lise pulled a couple éclairs out of the bag, opened her book, and was soon lost in it, ears attuned for the distinctive sound of Marco’s laughter. Lying next to her, Russa sunned herself while idly watching Marco’s game. About fifteen minutes later, Russa nudged Lise’s side. She looked up quickly to see Marco sitting on the see-saw with the same girl he’d been playing with earlier, talking animatedly. The girl pointed to something sitting on the see-saw in front of them. He looked in her direction and waved when he saw her watching him. “Marco! Snack time!” she called.</p><p class="Preference">Marco toddled over as quickly as he could, grinning from ear to ear in excitement. He stumbled on the edge of the blanket and fell to his knees, sticking a hand in the pastry bag and pulling out a fistful of cookies. He shoved all of them in his mouth at the same time, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.</p><p class="Preference">“Marco, what have we said about eating so many cookies at once?” Lise chided him calmly.</p><p class="Preference">Marco chewed for several minutes before he could swallow. “Don’t?”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s correct,” she praised him. “One at a time now: we don’t want you to choke and hurt yourself.”</p><p class="Preference">“<em>Siento</em>,” he apologized. “Play more!”</p><p class="Preference">“When you finish your snack you can go back.”</p><p class="Preference">“Okay.” Marco shoved another two cookies in his mouth.</p><p class="Preference">Lise rolled her eyes. “Who’s your friend?”</p><p class="Preference">“Lauren?” he asked. He smiled excitedly. “She’s cool! She lives there. She has a kitty. Her daddy works at a school. Mommy works at <em>banco</em>. She plays with Gramma! And she has a fairy!”</p><p class="Preference">Lise hummed indulgently, only partly listening to his excited rambling. “A fairy, you say?”</p><p class="Preference">He nodded. “She found it at the park and it stays with her!”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s fun.” Lise snorted in amusement, wiping a thin layer of crumbs off her book.</p><p class="Preference">“It’s the same size as Russa,” he explained. “<em>Tiene</em> pointy ears and whissers and a tail! And its <em>nom</em> Paw.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s int–wait.” Lise cocked her head in confusion, turning her full attention to the toddler. “What was that?”</p><p class="Preference">“A fairy!”</p><p class="Preference">“And the fairy is Russa’s size?”</p><p class="Preference">Marco nodded, annoyed. “Uh-huh. Can I play?”</p><p class="Preference">“Okay,” she told him, “but be careful!” As Marco ran back to where Lauren was sitting on a swing, Lise gave Russa a look. “Do you think…?”</p><p class="Preference">She nodded seriously, her jaw setting in a thin line. “It definitely <em>sounds</em> like a Kwami,” Russa squeaked, dropping to phase into the ground beneath them.</p><p class="Preference">Lise looked around the park cautiously, suddenly on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. If Marco’s friend really had found a miraculous, what might that mean? Could it be one of Night Bat’s miraculous? One of the missing Atlantean miraculous? What if Lynchpin’s people came to look for it? She didn’t have to wait long; Russa returned less than ten minutes later, an amber Kwami with triangular ears and a long tail following her. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered, staring at the Kwami.</p><p class="Preference">“Hi!” she squeaked, grinning cheekily. “I’m Pounss. I’m the Lynx Kwami!”</p><p class="Preference">“Hi, Pounss,” Lise greeted her quietly, smiling. “I’m Lise. I take it Russa told you that we are here from the American Miraculous Temple. So what’s <em>your</em> story?”</p><p class="Preference">Pounss shrugged. “My miraculous has been lost for a while, but the little girl found my bracelet a few days ago,” she explained. “We’ve played tea party and dress up, and she thinks I’m a fairy.”</p><p class="Preference">“So I’ve been told,” Lise observed wryly. “Has Lauren been treating you well?”</p><p class="Preference">The Kwami nodded. “It has been nice to be out of my miraculous again, and Lauren is so sweet. She lets me have anything I want to eat!”</p><p class="Preference">Lise smiled in relief. The idea of anyone mistreating a Kwami had made no sense to her before they arrived in Paris and learned about Kwamis being abused for their power. But if the girl was being kind to Pounss, that could make this conversation that much harder. She frowned at Russa, who gave her a pensive look. “So what do we do now?” she asked the two Kwamis. “I mean, I’m sorry, Pounss, but we can’t exactly leave your miraculous in the hands of a three-year-old… And with bad guys in the city trying to get their hands on every miraculous they can, she could get hurt if they find out about you.”</p><p class="Preference">Pounss frowned sadly. “I do wish it were different, but I have to agree. The Miraculous of Secrecy is far too easy to misuse.”</p><p class="Preference">“What is the miraculous?” Lise asked, looking across the park at the spot where Lauren and Marco were riding down the slide together. Something on Lauren’s wrist caught her eye, just as it stuck on the railing of the slide while she climbed back up. “The bangle?”</p><p class="Preference">Pounss nodded.</p><p class="Preference">Lise hummed quietly and thought. Seeing Marco looking in her direction, she waved him over, removing a rubber bracelet from her own wrist as she did so. “Marco,” she asked when he returned, “Can you ask Lauren if she wants to trade her bracelet for this one? This one won’t get caught on anything as easily when she’s playing.”</p><p class="Preference">Marco shrugged and wandered off, holding the new bracelet in front of himself. Presently he returned with an amber bangle in his hand, barely large enough for a child’s wrist, which he handed to Lise. It grew larger as Lise placed it on her own wrist for safekeeping. Satisfied, she gave Pounss a look. “Do you want to go say goodbye to Lauren? I hate to take you away from her without any explanation. Maybe you can tell her you need to go home to fairy world but you might see her again someday.”</p><p class="Preference">Pounss nodded sadly and flew over to Lauren, who gave the Kwami a hug, tears in her eyes. She patted the Kwami on the head and kissed her, and presently the Kwami returned. “What are you going to do with me now, Lise?” she asked, eyes wide.</p><p class="Preference">Lise fished out one of the roast beef sandwiches they had brought for lunch and offered the Kwami a couple slices of meat. As Pounss ate, Lise thought. “Well, the first thing I’ll have to do is show your miraculous to our Guardian – Marco’s mother. Julia can decide if you should stay here with the Heroes of Paris or if we should bring you to the American Temple. But you’re with friends now: we’ve already found several of your Atlantean brothers and sisters, a few of whom are active at the Mansion where we’re staying.”</p><p class="Preference">“Kheaa and Dorreen and Paxx will be so happy to see you again!” Russa squeaked, clapping her paws excitedly.</p><p class="Preference">“It will be nice to see the others again,” Pounss agreed with a relieved smile. “I haven’t seen another Kwami in at least a millennium!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Merry Christmas (in advance)! Tomorrow look for the first chapter of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261374/chapters/69255444">“Fear Itself”</a>… which takes place the first weekend in October and is definitely <em>not</em> a Christmas story…</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Ant's Little Sister</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nawal is getting ready for bed, but someone can't sleep</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The characters in this one-shot were introduced in <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261374/chapters/69255444">“Fear Itself,”</a> and although the anthology is titled “The Life and Times of the Heroes of Europe,” neither the setting nor the characters are actually European. This takes place at the Somali Miraculous Temple. It’s a follow-up to “Fear Itself,” but neither of the characters involved was a POV character in that story, so it didn’t really fit there.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Nawal finished brushing her teeth and spat into the washbasin in her room before looking over at Minii, who was lounging on the counter. Minii yawned, covering her mouth with one paw.</p><p class="Preference">“This has been a long day!” the Kwami observed, stretching her arms to either side.</p><p class="Preference">“I’ll say,” agreed Nawal, trying to work the tension out of her neck. After rescuing the hostages from the camp, the others had rendezvoused with the refugees to return to the village. Mohamed had promised that they would be back in the morning to help with the repairs, though Nawal hadn’t been there for that. Instead, she had been busy helping their newest residents get settled in their rooms. And now it was well after midnight and she was <em>exhausted</em>. She peeled off her sweat-stained shirt, tossed it into the pile on the far side of the room, and selected a new sleeping shirt. A knock came at the door as she was getting her shirt in place. She smiled eagerly and bounded over to the door, pulling it open with a cheerful, “Hey–” She froze and stared at the girl at the door. “Oh!” she squeaked in surprise. “Hi, Aisha!”</p><p class="Preference">The younger girl stared at her with large round eyes. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she began. “You were getting ready for sleep.” She turned to leave.</p><p class="Preference">Nawal put her hand out but didn’t touch the younger girl. “I always have time for you,” she told her, stepping to one side and waving her arm to invite her in. “I just wasn’t expecting you right this moment. What’s up?”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha turned away, the tension evident in her shoulders. “I… It’s nothing. It’s personal.”</p><p class="Preference">“Hey, you can talk to me.” Nawal frowned, unwilling to push but unsure how to set her at ease. “What’s wrong?”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s just...” She hesitated, staring down into the floor. “I don’t want to be alone – my room’s too dark and quiet. Because of what Popo did.”</p><p class="Preference">Nawal gasped. “You poor thing!” she cooed soothingly. “Of course you can come in, <em>ukti</em>.” [“my sister”]</p><p class="Preference">“Thanks,” Aisha whispered, throwing her arms around Nawal and burying her face in her shoulder. “I don’t want to worry Abdi, on top of everything else – not when we just got away from them and he’s so happy here already. Can–can I stay with you tonight?”</p><p class="Preference">Nawal wrapped the girl up in a hug and kissed her forehead. Gently she steered her over to the bed. “Absolutely,” she assured her, sitting down and patting the bed next to her. Aisha sat down next to her, back ramrod straight and her hands on her lap. “You’re safe here,” Nawal reminded her gently. “I promise: no one is going to hurt you here. No one will touch you without your permission.”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha pulled her feet up onto the bed and hugged her legs, resting her chin on her knees. “I haven’t felt safe in over a year, since Popo–since he–” She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I haven’t even really been alone since we were taken, but I’ve been so lonely. E–every night–” She choked back a sob. “I–I–”</p><p class="Preference">Nawal hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, and Aisha immediately leaned into her. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha nodded, letting go of her legs and hugging Nawal tightly around her chest. Nawal gently rubbed her back. “You’re safe,” she assured her, a soothing lilt to her voice.</p><p class="Preference">Aisha sniffed back a shuddering sob. “I don’t want to think about it anymore,” she whispered. “I wish I never <em>had</em> to think about it again…”</p><p class="Preference">Nawal glanced over at Minii, who had been watching from across the room, a sad expression on her face. “You know what always makes me feel better?” Nawal asked, smiling. “Sweets!”</p><p class="Preference">“I’ll see what’s in the kitchen!” squeaked Minii eagerly, darting out of the room.</p><p class="Preference">Aisha curled up against Nawal’s side, her arms around her waist, and Nawal ran her fingers through the girl’s hair. “It’s been so long since I had a little sister.”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha hummed a question. “You have a sister?”</p><p class="Preference">Nawal sighed heavily. She had hardly thought about Muna since arriving at the Temple. “I… <em>had</em> a little sister,” she explained sadly. “She was killed. When the soldiers raided our village. She would have been about your age.” She fell silent and closed her eyes, her sister’s face as clear in her mind as the last time she’d seen her. “I was alone for so long, but then a couple years ago Guardian Said found me and brought me here and gave me a new family. And now that includes you and Abdi.”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m sorry,” Aisha whispered, squeezing her waist.</p><p class="Preference">“It was a long time ago,” replied Nawal, waving her other hand dismissively. She resumed running her fingers through Aisha’s hair and started humming quietly. The younger girl’s breathing started to even out, her racing heartbeat slowing. Nawal pushed thoughts of Muna to the back of her mind.</p><p class="Preference">It was some time later when Minii returned with a plate of gashaato balanced over her head. Aisha sat up on seeing her, and the Kwami placed the dish on the bed between Aisha and Nawal. Aisha looked at the white squares in some confusion.</p><p class="Preference">“Have you ever tried this before?” asked Nawal, picking out the biggest piece for herself and breaking off a corner for Minii.</p><p class="Preference">Aisha shook her head. “Never.”</p><p class="Preference">“I’d never had it before coming to the Temple, either,” Nawal admitted, “but it’s one of Hussain’s specialties, so we have it all the time. I hope you like coconut!”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha picked out a piece of gashaato and eyed it suspiciously before taking a small bite. Her eyes lit up and she moaned in pleasure. “This is so good,” she enthused, shoving the rest of it into her mouth. “I don’t remember the last time I got anything sweet! My mom never could afford sugar and Popo–” She froze, her face falling.</p><p class="Preference">Nawal put another piece of the confection in Aisha’s hand and took one for herself. She rested her hand on Aisha’s knee. “Well, here you can have whatever sweets you want, whenever you want them,” she assured her. “But you’ll have to fight Minii for them!” she added, laughing.</p><p class="Preference">Minii giggled shrilly. “I could eat a whole <em>batch</em> of this every day!” She swallowed an entire piece in a single bite.</p><p class="Preference">Aisha blinked in confusion. “Where do they <em>put</em> it all???” she wondered. “If Abdi ever had it to spare, Growll would eat an entire roast gazelle – and all without getting any bigger!”</p><p class="Preference">Nawal snorted. “If you ever figure that out, be sure to let me know, because Minii won’t tell!”</p><p class="Preference">“Ask me no secrets and I’ll tell you no lies…” the Kwami intoned, smirking. She fluttered over to sit on Aisha’s shoulder. “I’ll be sure to leave some gashaato for you,” she promised, nuzzling up against her chin.</p><p class="Preference">Aisha froze.</p><p class="Preference">Minii stopped instantly and flitted away. Nawal stared at the girl, at a loss of what to do. “<em>Ukti</em>? Aisha?”</p><p class="Preference">With a blink, Aisha met her worried gaze. “I’m sorry! I–” Her hand unconsciously drifted up to her neck where Minii had touched. “It just–”</p><p class="Preference">“You don’t have to explain,” Nawal interrupted her gently, squeezing her hand. Plying her with another piece of gashaato, Nawal reached into her nightstand and pulled out a wooden board and cup of smooth pebbles. “How about a game?” she suggested. “Mancala?”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha nodded, and Nawal started setting up the board. “Why are there only three rows?” Aisha asked, cocking her head in confusion.</p><p class="Preference">“This is Maaza’s old board,” explained Nawal, counting the pebbles. “She kept beating me, so she finally gave me this one so I could practice. It does take some getting used to,” she admitted. She picked her first pit, emptied it, and counted out the pebbles.</p><p class="Preference">The two played quietly for almost an hour, the plate of gashaato steadily disappearing, before Aisha couldn’t quite hide her yawn. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, glancing over at the clock on Nawal’s nightstand. “Oh! It’s late!”</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t worry about it,” Nawal assured her, smiling. “Are you ready to go to sleep?”</p><p class="Preference">Aisha looked down at the bed, worry evident in her face. “I… I don’t want to leave.”</p><p class="Preference">“You don’t have to.” Nawal set the game board on the nightstand and slid down so her back was against the wall, waving for Aisha to join her. Aisha lay down on her side, resting her head in Nawal’s lap, and Minii curled up on her cheek. Nawal slowly combed out the girl’s hair with her fingers. Aisha sighed in contentment. “I used to do this for my sister,” Nawal explained.</p><p class="Preference">“Thank you,” whispered Aisha, her breathing beginning to even out.</p><p class="Preference">Nawal nodded tenderly and turned out the light before she leaned her head back against the wall. It was late, and she would be up early for training, but this was worth it. She had been powerless to protect Muna, but now things were different. She could help this girl.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In case it wasn’t clear before, Nawal is about 16; Aisha and Abdi are about 13.</p><p>I… don’t know half as much about Africa as I wish, so a lot of this came from research and may be inaccurate. As just one note, Maaza (the Wildebeest Miraculous holder) is Ethiopian, and there’s a different variation of mancala played there than other parts of Africa (there are a lot of variations of mancala in Africa, with 2, 3, or 4 rows on the board).</p><p>Nawal is going to get a chapter in the “Christmas Anthology”… which won’t get published until maybe February, given that it’s only October in-universe.</p><p>Aisha will show up again in the “Group Therapy” story set after “The Darkest Nights.” – I’m pretty sure the girl needs some serious therapy…</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Pub</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix and friends go to a pub near King's College. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The idea for this was inspired by Bex_is_a_Slytherin. Technically, there is no underage drinking in this one-shot; while the age to purchase alcohol in England is 18, a child of 16-17 can legally drink alcohol at a restaurant as part of a meal if it’s purchased by an adult. Felix and his friends are 17 (with one who’s 18).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Friday night, and Felix was just about to leave his house to make the drive into London for his patrol shift. While he still felt a little bad for leaving Iron Maiden to cover the rest of the week, it wasn’t like he could just pop off to London every night to run around and hunt for the Stripper Ripper; the best he could manage was to tell the school he needed to go home for the weekends – which technically wasn’t a lie. But according to Pegasus, this wouldn’t last too much longer: he was testing out a streamlined portal ring that Felix could keep in his dorm. But for now, Felix was still racking up the kilometres on his car. Packing a bag of beef jerky in his backpack for Barkk, Felix grabbed his laptop and signalled for the Kwami to hide in his pocket before stepping outside and locking the dorm room behind himself. A solid hand clapped him on the shoulder before he could turn around.</p><p>“Felix!” called Aaron jovially. “Running off home to visit your mum?”</p><p>“As always!” Felix agreed, patting his friend on the shoulder and grinning nervously.</p><p>“You know you’ll miss the rugby match tomorrow, though?”</p><p>Felix shrugged noncommittally. As much as he missed going to the games, that was the price of being a hero, at least according to his mother.</p><p>“Well…” Aaron pulled him in close and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You know today’s Charlie’s birthday, right?”</p><p>“Really?” Felix smirked. “It must have slipped my mind. He’s only been talking about it constantly all week!”</p><p>“So now he’s 18…” Aaron wagged his eyebrows and grinned conspiratorially. Felix gave him a deadpan look. Aaron groaned in annoyance. “So he can buy beer, dumbass. The three of us are heading down to London to get the full pub experience to celebrate. Care to join us?”</p><p>Felix furrowed his brows in contemplation. A soft growl emanated from Barkk’s pocket. He <em>was</em> supposed to go on patrol tonight; Friday nights were one of the Stripper Ripper’s prime hunting times, and his attacks had started to increase in frequency. But at the same time, he <em>could</em> stop at the pub with the guys, have a beer, and then go out on patrol. After all, the Ripper usually didn’t strike until the clubs’ closing time, anyways. “Yeah, all right then.”</p><p>“Excellent! We’re taking your car.”</p><p>Felix rolled his eyes. He should’ve guessed.</p><hr/><p>A little over an hour later, Felix parked his Bentley in a lot just off the Strand near the Waterloo Bridge. “So why here?” he asked, turning to Charlie.</p><p>Charlie grinned eagerly. “Why else?” he responded rhetorically. “If I’m going to a pub to celebrate my birthday, the only place to go is Irish! And besides,” he added, wagging his eyebrows. “Only a couple blocks from King’s College? There are bound to be some college girls at the pub on a Friday night!”</p><p>“Right,” Felix scoffed. “Because I’m sure there’s a college girl here just raring to go with the first Eton lad to give her the time of day!”</p><p>“That’s the spirit, lad!” cheered Aaron, clapping Felix on the back.</p><p>“You never know when one of us could get lucky!” John agreed. “Last time I was here…”</p><p>Felix raised an eyebrow dubiously – in all the years they’d been housemates, the other three had only ever gone home on weekends a handful of times. All the same, he followed them down the street a couple blocks until they reached the pub in question, O’Shea’s. When the green-and-orange door opened, they were assaulted by loud Irish music and the smell of beer, real and artificial shamrocks lining the walls and hanging from the ceiling. A server in a bright green skirt met them at the door and showed them through the crowded room to a table near the back. Felix looked around, taking in the décor as they went. Although he had been in pubs before, his mother had never allowed him to drink when he went with her, and his father had died before Felix was old enough to drink in public. Most of the tables were full, and there was a small group of girls who looked a year or two older than them standing around the bar, chatting with the redhead behind the counter. One of the girls wore a sweatshirt with “King’s College – Strand” on the front.</p><p>Charlie stared at the redheaded barmaid, eyes wide. He elbowed Felix in the ribs. “Authentic Irish babe: now <em>that</em>’s what I’m talking about!” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the din of music and conversation.</p><p>“You wouldn’t even know what to <em>say</em> to a girl!” Felix whispered back, smirking.</p><p>“Is that a challenge?” Charlie grinned and raised an eyebrow at him.</p><p>No sooner had the four boys sat down at their table than Charlie picked up the menu and gave the server a food order for all of them, along with ordering a round of Guinness. As soon as the food and drinks arrived, he pounded down his first beer in two gulps and slammed the mug back on the table, shaking his head, before digging into his fish and chips. A couple minutes later, the redhead from the bar, whose nametag identified her as “Anne,” came over to deliver another beer. “You know, sweetheart,” Charlie told her, wagging his eyebrows suggestively, “today’s my birthday.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” she asked, wagging her eyebrows back at him. “So what about it?”</p><p>“Well, we came down here for the full pub treatment.” His eyes trailed down her form-fitting shirt. “And I mean the <em>full</em> pub treatment.”</p><p>“And…” Her smile turned strained.</p><p>“And… how about a birthday kiss?” Charlie puckered his lips.</p><p>Anne straightened up, put a finger on her chin, and hummed, looking away as if deep in thought, the corner of her lip curling with a hint of amusement. When she turned away, Charlie reached around and squeezed her butt before giving it a swat. Surprised, Anne jumped and stumbled back, slopping half the beer into Charlie’s lap. Charlie gasped in shock.</p><p>“Oh!” she yelped, handing him a dishtowel and rushing back to the bar to grab another towel.</p><p>Once she was gone, John smacked Charlie on the back. “Better luck next time, mate!”</p><p>Aaron burst out laughing. “You know you kind of asked for that, right bud?” he asked. Charlie glowered at him. “You <em>told</em> her you wanted the ‘full pub treatment’!”</p><p>Felix laughed along with the others as Charlie tried to dry off his beer-soaked pants. “I think you’re going to be <em>walking</em> back after that,” Felix observed wryly. “I don’t want the leather smelling like beer for the next month!”</p><p>Charlie fixed Felix with a deadpan look before his attention was drawn back toward Anne, who was rooting around behind the counter. Turning to follow his gaze, a flash of colour near the bar caught Felix’s eye. A girl with bright dyed-blue hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders was leaning against the counter and nursing a bottle, staring at their table with a troubled look in her eyes. Felix cocked his head in surprise. Grinning, he got up from the table and walked straight over to her.</p><p>“<em>Bonsoir, mademoiselle</em>,” he purred, placing his elbow on the bar next to her.</p><p>She eyed him suspiciously. “<em>Bonsoir</em>,” she replied evenly. She narrowed her eyes and stared at his face. “You look… familiar.”</p><p>He hummed and looked into her eyes. “Maybe I just have one of those faces, <em>mademoiselle</em>,” he answered, raising an eyebrow. “Who do I look like?”</p><p>She furrowed her brows in thought and leaned back slightly. “I can’t quite place it…”</p><p>“Your <em>next</em>-boyfriend, perhaps?” He wagged his eyebrows.</p><p>She arched one eyebrow and frowned. “Do those lines <em>ever</em> work on living females?”</p><p>He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, straightening up. “Not as often as I would like,” he admitted, taking a swig of his still-mostly-full beer.</p><p>“And doesn’t that tell you anything?” she asked.</p><p>He shrugged. “Just that I might need to try a little harder, be a little more <em>dogged</em> in my pursuit… and speaking of…?”</p><p>“Dream on.” She cocked her head to one side, staring at him. “Okay, seriously, <em>do</em> I know you?”</p><p>He smirked and leaned in a little closer. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and started to lean away as his mouth approached her cheek. “Not as well as I wish, <em>mon Fer</em>,” he answered, his voice barely audible over the noise of the bar patrons around them.</p><p>Her eyes widened in recognition and she groaned, pushing him back half-heartedly. “I go out for a drink for the first time in <em>four months</em>, and I run into <em>you</em>?”</p><p>“Is that such a bad thing, <em>cher</em>?” he asked, watching her with an amused smile.</p><p>“That depends,” she replied. He nodded for her to continue, and she smirked. “It depends on whether you’re planning on making me throw you off another bridge! Any more of those terrible lines and I just might…” She frowned. “But speaking of… shouldn’t you be out on patrol, Pup?”</p><p>He shrugged. “The Ripper doesn’t seem to strike <em>too</em> early in the evening, so I’m sure I have enough time to get these three to a <em>kennel</em> somewhere to sleep it off before I go out.” He jerked his thumb toward the table, where all three of his friends had by now moved on to their second drinks.</p><p>“Oh, so you <em>are</em> going to admit you know those three jackasses?” He followed her gaze to see Anne handing Charlie a stack of napkins. Charlie slipped his hand onto her inner thigh, and she grabbed his wrist and forced it back until he winced in pain. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a horndog like you would run with that sort of crowd.” She snorted. “Your friend should be careful or my flatmate might just <em>break</em> his hand next time!”</p><p>“Wait–<em>she</em>’s your flatmate?” Felix paled and watched her finally slap Charlie across the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek, to a raucous ovation from Aaron and John. Felix chuckled. “It looks like she can dish out as much as she takes.”</p><p>The girl gave him a deadpan look. “And you think she should <em>have</em> to put up with drunken assholes like your buddy making passes at her all night?” Felix opened his mouth and she cut him off with a raised finger. “I would think <em>very</em> hard before answering that question, Mutt.”</p><p>He let out a snort which quickly turned into a cough when his partner’s eyes flared. He shut his mouth. “No–of course she shouldn’t.” Catching sight of the dirty looks the other customers were giving his friends, he frowned nervously. Suddenly his Guinness didn’t taste quite as good as he had thought. He set it on the bar next to her, glad he’d only had a handful of sips. “Um… I should probably get them out of here before they get themselves into any <em>more</em> trouble,” he decided. “Or before you use them for target practice!”</p><p>“Don’t tempt me!” she teased, her lips curling up in amusement.</p><p>He smirked and took her hand, turning it over and lifting it as if to kiss it. She eyed him suspiciously, but he simply squeezed before leaning in closer. “Until we meet again, <em>Fer</em> Maiden,” he whispered in her ear before releasing her hand and turning away.</p><p>“Hey, nice going, chatting up a college girl!” Aaron cheered, clapping Felix on the back as he sat back down.</p><p>“Nothing to it,” Felix commented, grinning. He raised an eyebrow in a challenge before shoving half his fries into his mouth. “Step one is to not be an asshole!”</p><p>“So, did you get her number?” John asked as Felix dropped a few bills on the table and nudged his friends toward the door.</p><p>“I did not.” Felix chuckled: he already <em>had</em> that maiden’s number!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, Felix’s friends are a bit over-the-top in their caddishness, but it’s not entirely inaccurate. My wife waited tables in high school and college, and one time a customer caressed her inner thigh to get her attention… with his wife and kids/grandkids sitting right next to him.</p><p>Tomorrow look for the first of the “Superhero Liaison Department Case Reports”: “The Andretti Investigation.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Mulan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marinette and Kagami have a movie night and learn about "Comic Relief Dragons"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The idea for this came from bryguy2324 on FF.net as a follow-up to the Mulan reference in “A Miraculous Adventure in Tibet” Chapter 8. As far as I can tell, that flew completely under the radar when I first published it, so here’s the long-form version of that “Easter egg”!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“So what does your mother think you’re doing right now?” Marinette asked with an amused smile, selecting a handful of macaroons for herself and passing the tray full of day-old pastries over to Kagami. She placed a pair of macaroons on the sofa between them in front of the two Kwamis. Tikki dug into the strawberry one with gusto, while Longg carefully broke off pieces of his own – a special one Marinette had made with fish oil.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami giggled. “I am having an ‘important consultation’ with the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie regarding their upcoming marketing push for the new fall flavors,” she explained. “I love your parents: Thirty minutes and we were finished!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette groaned, fixing Kagami with a worried look. “Please don’t tell me…”</p><p class="Preference">“I convinced your Papa not to call the new bonbons ‘Plump-kin Spice’,” Kagami assured her. “And for an advertising slogan we’re going with ‘Fall into Autumn Flavors’.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s… better,” Marinette allowed hesitantly.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smirked. “It was either that or ‘Pumpkin <em>Spice</em> it up in the Sack’!”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh my god,” Marinette moaned, burying her head in her hands to hide her burning cheeks.</p><p class="Preference">“I don’t <em>think</em> he was serious about that one,” Kagami noted, stifling a laugh and patting Marinette’s back consolingly. “Or at least from your Mama’s reaction I think it’s one he’s tried before and she’s vetoed.” She sighed. “Still, thank you for suggesting this back in the spring; this is probably why your parents are my favorite clients!”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, really?” asked Marinette, raising her face out of her hands and giving Kagami a knowing smile. “Better than <em>Kitty Section</em>?” she teased.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami blushed. “That’s… different.” She coughed and took a drink of her hot chocolate.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette hummed, arching an eyebrow at her. “I can’t imagine why you would say that… So did you actually get any marketing work done yesterday when you were ‘consulting’ with Luka?”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami smirked. There was <em>some</em> work involved…” she defended. She cleared her throat. “So what are we going to watch this afternoon?”</p><p class="Preference">“Tikki suggested watching <em>Mulan</em> together,” Marinette told her, starting up the television and finding the movie. “She thought you would enjoy it.”</p><p class="Preference">“I don’t <em>remember</em> the last time I watched this movie,” Kagami observed as the opening credits played. “I think it was when Mother insisted that I take English lessons. Learning English by watching movies was so much easier than anything my tutor tried.”</p><p class="Preference">“I haven’t tried that.” Marinette hummed to herself. “Julia keeps pushing me to learn Spanish, but I had a hard enough time trying to learn <em>English</em> – let alone Chinese to decipher to code for our Miracle Book!”</p><p class="Preference">“I could help you,” Kagami offered, arching an eyebrow at her. “Languages aren’t that hard – as long as you actually practice them!”</p><p class="Preference">“I may take you up on that,” Marinette agreed, “but for now let’s just watch it in English – not Spanish!” She leaned back into the sofa and started to get lost in the movie, hardly noticing the wistful sighs from Tikki, who had floated up to side on the back of the couch next to Marinette’s shoulder.</p><p class="Preference">It was only about twenty minutes in when Longg suddenly sat bolt upright and threw the rest of his macaroon at the screen, letting out a huff of lightning. “I do not sound like that!” he declared. He shot up into the air and glared at Tikki. “<em>Do</em> I sound like that?” he demanded, scandalized.</p><p class="Preference">“I’m sorry?” Kagami paused the movie and stared at the Kwami in confusion.</p><p class="Preference">“They did give you a bit of Plagg’s personality,” Tikki agreed, covering her mouth with a paw but failing to muffle her giggles.</p><p class="Preference">“What are you two talking about???” Marinette asked, cocking her head and shifting her gaze between the two Kwamis in befuddlement.</p><p class="Preference">“The movie,” Tikki explained, waving toward the screen, where Mushu and Cri-Kee were in the middle of greeting Mulan.</p><p class="Preference">“What do you mean, the movie?” Marinette demanded, still confused. “It’s fiction.”</p><p class="Preference">“Mulan <em>is</em> based on a Chinese legend…” Kagami began slowly. She stared at Longg, her eyes widening. “But if you’re… Wait, you mean the comic relief dragon <em>wasn’t</em> a Disney addition!?!”</p><p class="Preference">“I beg your pardon: I am <em>not</em> a ‘comic relief dragon’!” retorted Longg, folding his arms and blowing a wind gust out of his nose.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami facepalmed. “<em>That’s</em> the part you’re focusing on?” she deadpanned. “Not the fact that the legend is real? That Mulan actually existed? That the legendary Savior of China was actually a Miraculous <em>Dragon</em>?”</p><p class="Preference">“You never told her about the last time our holders were such close partners?” Tikki asked Longg incredulously. “Never mind <em>that</em>; you never even told her about Běi Shǎn? I thought you told <em>all</em> your holders about her!” She put her paw on Kagami’s hand and explained, “Of course Hua Mulan was real! She was one of Longg’s absolute favorite holders!”</p><p class="Preference">“He’s told me about the Běi Shǎn of China,” Kagami protested. “But he never told me her name. It was Mulan? <em>The</em> Mulan?”</p><p class="Preference">Longg dipped his head. “She was indeed. Mulan in fact possessed many of the same qualities I see in you, Kagami-San,” Longg told her. “Bravery, loyalty, devotion…”</p><p class="Preference">“Thank you, Longg-Sama,” replied Kagami, inclining her head to him, her cheeks a light pink.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette furrowed her brows. “You said your holders were partners?” she asked Tikki.</p><p class="Preference">“Absolutely!” Tikki squeaked, smiling widely. “They were laotong, ‘sworn sisters.’”</p><p class="Preference">“They did begin on opposite sides of the war,” Longg observed. “The Piáo Chóng’s father was Prince–”</p><p class="Preference">“–Emperor,” interjected Tikki indignantly.</p><p class="Preference">“–a Prince who styled himself Emperor,” Longg continued unperturbed. “However, when his army captured Mulan, Piáo Chóng met her and they became fast friends.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette cocked her head to the side in surprise. “Miraculous users – and from the same set – fought against each other back then? But why?”</p><p class="Preference">Tikki sighed regretfully. “You have to understand,” she began. “During those days the Guardians were unsure how best to use our power. China – what you know as China today, anyways – was in upheaval, with many small kingdoms vying for power all throughout the Middle Kingdom. Eventually the Guardians elected to grant one miraculous to each principality for their own protection and to preserve balance among them. Mulan’s people lived further to the north. Xianniang’s father ruled a kingdom near the middle of the region. Cheng, Plagg’s holder, fought for the people of the south. Pollen, Trixx, Stompp, Ziggy, Kaalki… all of their holders aligned with different kingdoms; it was rare for any of our holders to go onto the battlefield without fighting against fellow miraculous users. The Guardians had hoped to bring reconciliation between the warring states by means of their respective miraculous users, but it only elevated the war to a greater height of brutality.”</p><p class="Preference">“The Hēi Māo and Piáo Chóng eventually brought reconciliation between their two kingdoms and ushered in a peace that would end the conflict,” Longg pointed out, “although that only happened after many years of warfare in which both sides suffered greatly.”</p><p class="Preference">“And Mulan?” asked Kagami.</p><p class="Preference">“Her kingdom joined in the great peace, as well,” Longg confirmed, nodding. “In fact, Hēi Māo and Piáo Chóng used her as an intermediary while arranging their betrothal, which would eventually secure the peace: she would use her Wind Dragon form to sneak in and out of the fortresses while carrying secret messages between her sister and her sister’s beloved.”</p><p class="Preference">“After the war was over, when they had retired from active service to govern, they offered her a place in the court, to serve as their general and the leader of their reformed miraculous team,” Tikki continued, selecting an éclair with pumpkin spice filling. “Xianniang was so sad when she refused the offer and elected to return home to her family.”</p><p class="Preference">“Did they ever see each other again?” Marinette wondered, her heart twisting with sadness.</p><p class="Preference">Longg let out an amused chuckle, and Tikki flew up and patted Marinette’s cheek patronizingly. “There’s a Horse Miraculous, sweetie.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh. Right.”</p><p class="Preference">“Eventually, after her father’s death, Mulan retired to the Temple of the Miraculous as a Guardian, bringing all the miraculous back with her to await the next time they would be needed to preserve the balance.”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami looked over at Marinette with a small smile. “You know there’s no way I would just cut out and leave you to retire like that, right, Mar?”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette returned her smile. “I know; there’s a reason we trust you so much!”</p><p class="Preference">“Mulan was not just ‘cutting out’,” Longg objected. “She had grown weary from the long years of warfare. She merely wished to experience peace; when the Northern invaders arrived ten years into the peace, Mulan immediately rejoined her friends to defend their kingdom.”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m sorry,” Kagami apologized with a sad frown. Longg dipped his head in acknowledgement.</p><p class="Preference">Tikki gave her a sympathetic smile. “You are both so young; you don’t yet understand the strain that can come from years of warfare.” Marinette scoffed. “Even after fighting Hawk Moth for two years, there is something different about leading armies into battle and watching people die around you… knowing that even with the power of Creation on your side you cannot ultimately undo all of the trauma.” Tikki fell silent. “That is why it is so crucial for you to have your team with you. The miraculous preserve balance <em>together</em>.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette nodded slowly. “I understand.” She glanced over at Kagami and smiled. “I’m glad I have you with me in this!”</p><p class="Preference">“Always!” Kagami agreed before hitting “play” to resume the movie.</p><p class="Preference">Near the midpoint of the movie, Longg let out a snort of lightning. “Oh… so <em>that</em> is how they think she did it…” he murmured to himself.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami raised an eyebrow at him. “Let me guess: the avalanche is real, too?”</p><p class="Preference">“Certainly,” he confirmed with a nod. “But Mulan didn’t use anything as mundane as <em>fireworks</em> to initiate it.”</p><p class="Preference">“What <em>did</em> she use?” asked Marinette.</p><p class="Preference">Longg grinned cheekily. “Lightning Dragon!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This does conflate the “Ballad of Mulan” and “Romance of Sui and Tang” accounts of the Mulan legend. According to Google Translate, “Běi Shǎn” is Chinese for “North Flash” (shortened form of “Lightning from the North”). “Piáo Chóng” is Chinese for “Ladybug”; the character in the “Romance of Sui and Tang” is named Dou Xianniang. “Hēi Māo” is Chinese for “Black Cat”; the character in the “Romance” is named Lou Cheng. I actually added all three of them as previous miraculous users in the wiki. The settings for the two sources differ by almost 100 years, so I set the characters from the “Romance” in the time period of the “Ballad” (and took some creative license). As a testament to how long I’ve been sitting on this, I actually wrote it well before the 2020 live-action <em>Mulan</em> was released!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Patrol in Portugal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Caravela is on patrol. What could go wrong?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Caravela jogged down the streets of Lisbon, trying to avoid bumping into the late-night revelers on their way home after an evening out. A woman stared at her in surprise before pointing her out to a friend. A couple of men who had just stumbled out of a bar catcalled her, whistling shrilly; she could feel their eyes on her formfitting top. Despite her burning desire to put them in their place, she gritted her teeth and ignored them. They weren’t the first, and they certainly wouldn’t be the last. And for as satisfying as it would be to knock them to the ground with the handle of her trident, that wouldn’t exactly fit the “hero vibe,” as O Patriota called it. He was the one who reveled in the civilian interaction part of being a hero.</p><p class="Preference">Of course, <em>he</em> also wasn’t the one getting hit on by the drunks he pulled out of the gutters!</p><p class="Preference">“Caravela!” The voice sounded like a child.</p><p class="Preference">Caravela turned toward the voice and smiled on seeing a little girl, no more than 8 years old, walking with what looked like her father. The girl waved wildly, and Caravela jogged over. “Hi! And what might your name be, <em>garotinha</em>?” [“little girl”]</p><p class="Preference">The girl stared up at her awestruck. “Natália. I… I’m… It’s so cool to meet you! I’m your biggest fan!”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Are you now?” she teased, grinning. She thought for a minute. “You know, I suppose you are! What brings you out tonight?”</p><p class="Preference">“We had supper, and then we went to the new Ladybug movie, and it was so awesome!”</p><p class="Preference">“Really?” Caravela asked excitedly. “Did you know I actually <em>met</em> Ladybug and Cat Noir this summer?”</p><p class="Preference">Her eyes bugged out in excitement, a wide smile spreading across her face. “No way! What were they like?”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela grinned. “Even more awesome than in the movies! Even in the worst scenarios, they’re completely calm and in control.”</p><p class="Preference">“When I grow up, I want to be just like you!” Natália bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. Her father chuckled.</p><p class="Preference">“Well, do you want to know how you <em>can</em>?” asked Caravela, turning serious and dropping down so her face was on the same level with Natália’s. The girl nodded wide-eyed; her father gave Caravela a concerned look. “You need to work really hard in school,” Caravela explained. “That’s how I became a hero.”</p><p class="Preference">The girl stared at her in surprise. “Wait, <em>really</em>? You’re not kidding, right?”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela nodded. “Science – biology and chemistry. Some heroes get by on strength or powers; I use my brain!” She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “There’s nothing cooler than a science girl!” She straightened up and gave Natália a serious look. “Can I count on you?”</p><p class="Preference">Natália nodded fervently. “Yes, <em>senhora</em>!”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela pulled out a coin – a suggestion from the Ladyblogger that O Patriota had run with – and flipped it to the girl. Natália stared at the trident side of the commemorative coin in awe. “Remember: stay in school!”</p><p class="Preference">Natália’s father chuckled softly as the girl waved goodbye. Caravela gave her a last wave and jogged off down the street. Maybe this “civilian interaction” thing wasn’t so bad after all. She reached the end of that street and turned down a side street with significantly less traffic. Her light boots pounding on the sidewalk was the only sound she could hear. Part of her was ready to return home; she did have an important presentation at the morning staff meeting, and she couldn’t be falling asleep during it. But it wasn’t <em>too</em> late yet. She could stay out for a little longer before calling it a night.</p><p class="Preference">At the far end of the block a darker shape detached from the shadows of a building. Caravela watched in surprise as it moved out onto the sidewalk, avoiding the streetlight in front of the building. The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. Then a pinprick of light appeared in front of its mouth. She exhaled. “You realize smoking isn’t good for your lungs, right, <em>senhor</em>?” she observed as she drew even with him.</p><p class="Preference">The man chuckled. “Yeah, well, the markets haven’t exactly been good for my blood pressure lately, so…” He shrugged. “There are worse stress relievers out there.”</p><p class="Preference">She arched an eyebrow. “Well, you have a good evening, <em>senhor</em>.”</p><p class="Preference">“You do the same.” He started as she made to pass him, his eyes trailing along her silver-and-blue leotard before stopping on the trident strapped to her back. “Do you mind?” she asked, allowing a hint of anger to creep into her voice. He coughed and turned away. She rolled her eyes and jogged past the circle of light. For as much as she appreciated the freedom of movement afforded by her light suit, she didn’t exactly appreciate the men staring at her. Perhaps with colder weather starting to come in, she should invest in a jacket; Ladybug had offered to make her one from the same material as Sent-Bee’s suit.</p><p class="Preference">The wind was a little cool as Caravela continued down the quiet street; she could feel goose bumps rising on her arms. A car turned down the street, illuminating the scene with its headlights. The engine noise as it sped past almost masked the whooshing sound from behind her. She cocked her head in confusion, an instant before a spike of pain shot up her left arm. She looked down to see a brown cord wrapped around her forearm. Caravela screamed.</p><p class="Preference">An electric jolt coursed through her arm, right before the cord pulled off, tiny barbs embedded in the cord tugging at her skin and peeling off a thin layer where it had grabbed hold of her. Caravela’s eyes followed the cord back to its source and found a man standing a few meters behind her in brown leather chaps and vest. The man cracked his cord like a whip.</p><p class="Preference">Caravela had her trident out of its sheath on her back in an instant. Her left arm hung limp; she could still feel that same electric jolt running up and down the nerves in her arm. Her left hand couldn’t close, so she held her trident one handed at an angle between herself and her assailant, flicking it awkwardly to knock the tennis balls off the tines. She stared at the man, masking her twinge of fear with confusion. “What are <em>you</em> supposed to be?” she demanded, her thumb finding a button on the trident’s shaft. A matching light on her gauntlet lit up.</p><p class="Preference">“Stings, don’t it, missie?” the man laughed, cracking his whip to one side. “Poor little lady like you shouldn’t be out here where she can get hurt. Maybe you should let me take you home where you can get all patched up.”</p><p class="Preference">She gave him a deadpan look. “That line might work a little better if <em>you</em> weren’t the one who just attacked me.” Her arm still stung, and she could still feel the electric impulses firing erratically along that nerve, but she could move her hand again. She gripped her trident firmly as the man cracked his whip again.</p><p class="Preference">“C’mon, sweetheart,” he leered, stepping toward her. “Let O Choque Libertino show you a good time.”</p><p class="Preference">“Your mother must be so proud,” she retorted, dropping her left foot back into a defensive stance. He cracked his whip again, and an electric pulse arced down the cord’s length as it cracked.</p><p class="Preference">He laughed. “Maybe if <em>you</em> show <em>me</em> a good time, I’ll decide you’re ‘meet the mother’ material!” he taunted. She scoffed in disbelief, and he leapt forward, swinging his whip around above his head before bringing it down at her face. Caravela lifted her trident one-handed and parried the whip aside. As it touched the metal handle of the trident, however, an electrical shock ran down the length of the weapon and she almost dropped it, hissing with pain. Again he struck, and this time she caught the whip between two tines of her trident, sweeping it down into the ground, and in the same motion bringing the handle around at his head. O Choque Libertino pulled back the whip before it hit the ground.</p><p class="Preference">“That all you got?” she demanded. Her eyes narrowed, analyzing their surroundings.</p><p class="Preference">“Come now, darling,” he told her, wagging his eyebrows. “Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay? We’re just getting started here!”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela raised her eyebrows at him dubiously. “And you think a woman would ever be interested in an ass like you?”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, I’m sure you’ll come around.” The whip cracked once behind him before he brought it to bear again.</p><p class="Preference">She sidestepped away from his strike, placing herself right in front of the streetlight. The whip missed, and he swung it around again. This time, Caravela waited for the last minute and lifted her trident at an angle, shifting her grip to the tines. The rope struck the trident handle below her hand, wrapping around and catching on its own barbs, just as she touched the base of the trident to the streetlight behind her. Electricity coursed down the length of the trident, grounded, and drained the power from the whip. O Choque Libertino stared at her in shock – but only for a moment – before Caravela shifted her grip on the trident and jabbed him in the chest with two of the tines. O Choque Libertino froze mid-laugh as the venom on the tines kicked in, immobilizing him. He dropped to the ground, releasing his whip’s handle as he fell. As Caravela was about to pick it up, she heard a pair of boots pounding down the street behind her. Without turning around she called, “It took you long enough.”</p><p class="Preference">“I can’t help it,” O Patriota commented, laughing. “I was busy! I count on <em>you</em> to do the hero stuff sometimes so I can have a life.”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, this one’s not going to get much of a life now,” Caravela noted, nudging O Choque Libertino in the gut with her foot. A high-pitched moan came from his throat.</p><p class="Preference">“That’s–” O Patriota cut off and grabbed her arm. The skin was red and sore, weeping tiny droplets of blood where the barbs had grabbed onto her. “What happened?” he demanded, eyes narrowing.</p><p class="Preference">“Cool your jets,” she replied with a smirk. “His whip did it.”</p><p class="Preference">O Patriota kicked O Choque Libertino in the side, eliciting a grunt from the villain. “Touch her again and there’s more where that came from!” O Patriota hissed, eyes lighting up furiously.</p><p class="Preference">She rolled her eyes. “Calm down, irmão. He isn’t going anywhere.”</p><p class="Preference">“Still…” O Patriota fumbled around in one of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a gauze pad, carefully wiping the blood off her arm. “If we started recruiting, you wouldn’t have been alone out here,” he observed.</p><p class="Preference">Caravela frowned. “We’ve talked about this. Do we really <em>need</em> anyone else with us to give directions to lost tourists or stop the odd purse snatcher?”</p><p class="Preference">“Probably not for any of <em>that</em>,” O Patriota admitted. He gave O Choque Libertino another kick in the side for good measure before picking up the whip. “But purse snatchers don’t normally carry these.”</p><p class="Preference">He handed it to Caravela, who turned it over and over to examine from all angles. The full length of the cord was covered in the tiny barbs that had latched onto her arm. Running her finger along it, she could feel the barbs pricking her skin and releasing it as she slid her finger in the opposite direction. One barb detached, revealing a thin wire filament hidden within. Turning to the whip’s handle, Caravela noticed a control button near the top. “Now this just isn’t fair,” she complained.</p><p class="Preference">“Still think we shouldn’t at least <em>consider</em> expanding the team?” he asked, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.</p><p class="Preference">She frowned. “I still don’t like the idea of bringing in new people we barely know.”</p><p class="Preference">O Patriota shrugged. “The Heroes of Paris don’t always know the people they work with.”</p><p class="Preference">“We’d need a new base of operations.”</p><p class="Preference">“We can work something out.”</p><p class="Preference">“Who would we recruit?”</p><p class="Preference">“There were a handful of applications on the website.”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela gave him a dubious look. “A Saltadora? The girl with the pogo boots? Really?”</p><p class="Preference">“There have been others,” O Patriota defended. “What about the guy with the power glove?”</p><p class="Preference">“Socomem?” She shrugged. “Maybe.”</p><p class="Preference">“It would mean a few more nights off if we had another couple teammates.”</p><p class="Preference">Caravela sighed heavily. “I’ll think about it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tomorrow look for the first chapter of “The Darkest Nights,” the sequel to “The Hound and the Maiden.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. In the Dark of Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While the Heroes of the UK search for their missing friend, the Heroes of Paris have a big decision to make</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Part Three of “The Dark of Night,” the crossover which began with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750845/chapters/71227029/">“The Darkest Nights” Chapter 14</a>. This chapter follows <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732992/chapters/71227092/">“Patrol Logs” Chapter 18</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having finally finished her bedtime routine, Chloe was just putting down her hairbrush when the phone rang on her nightstand. Bee-atrice, who was across the room gnawing on a bone, looked up and cocked her head at the sound. Chloe frowned, glancing at the clock. “I know, Bee,” she told the puppy, shaking her head. “Ridiculous for someone to be calling at almost midnight.” She sighed, stared at the Caller ID in confusion for a moment, and answered. “Amelie?”</p><p>“I hope I’m not waking you dear,” Amelie began hesitantly.</p><p>“No; I was just about to get in bed.” Chloe furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Amelie let out a heavy breath. “It’s Iron Maiden’s flatmate,” she finally responded. “The Ripper abducted her this evening.”</p><p>Chloe’s eyes shot wide open. “Shit,” she cursed, jumping off the bed and looking for her sweats. Pulling them on over her pajamas, she raced into the sitting room for her purse. Bee-atrice hopped up and started racing around the room, yipping agitatedly.</p><p>“I was unsure who to call, but after our conversation before I thought of you.”</p><p>“No, you did the right thing,” Chloe assured her quickly, grabbing a coat and slipping into her flats. “I’ll talk to the others and get back to you as soon as I can.”</p><p>Even before the call disconnected, Chloe was already out the door and sprinting down the hallway. She hit a button on her phone and allowed herself an amused snort – and Max had balked at her “Jean App” request over the summer. The elevator was already on the penthouse floor by the time she reached it, and she slipped inside and hit the lobby button. Jean would have the car waiting for her at the curb. As the elevator descended, the next order of business was to open the HOP app on her phone. Finding the correct button, she pressed the “Select Seven SOS” – if they didn’t respond, she would be having words with <em>all</em> of them in the morning. While pulling her loose hair back into a messy ponytail, Chloe smiled: if her fourteen-year-old self had had a special button that put Marinette Dupain-Cheng at her beck and call, there’s no way she wouldn’t have abused that privilege. But now?</p><p>Now she just hoped she wasn’t interrupting one of her best friends in the middle of anything important.</p><p>As the elevator opened, a light tugging on her pant leg drew her attention down to her feet. Bee-atrice looked up at her, eyes wide, holding her leash in her mouth. Chloe shook her head and knelt to pick up the puppy. “Sorry,” she apologized, running her fingers through the soft fur. “We’re not taking a walk tonight.”</p>
<hr/><p>Chloe emerged in the butterfly garden beneath the Agreste Mansion to find the conference room door still ajar, the indistinct sound of voices arguing back and forth echoing out from within. She hurried her pace as Bee hopped out of her arms and disappeared into the flowers, chasing after a pair of butterflies. Finally Chloe was close enough to hear what they were saying.</p><p>“–Don’t look at me; <em>I</em> don’t know what’s going on any more than <em>you</em> do!” Sabrina retorted.</p><p>“She’s your best friend; didn’t she call you first?” Alya asked.</p><p>“Are you saying you tell Marinette <em>everything</em>?”</p><p>“Just about.”</p><p>“What about Hugo?”</p><p>“She was in <em>Australia</em>! That doesn’t count!”</p><p>Chloe walked in just in time to see Max put his hand on Sabrina’s shoulder to hold her in her seat. Sabrina folded her arms, frowning at Alya, who sat across from her, leaning into Nino’s chest. Marinette sat at the head of the table, wearing a robe over her pajamas, hair down, rubbing her forehead, with Adrien on his feet next to her with one hand resting on the table. All of them had the same look in their eyes as though they had only rolled out of bed three minutes ago; an enormous pot of coffee sat on the table. A small cluster of Kwamis had congregated in the center of the table, not far from their respective holders, whispering in tinkling, high-pitched voices. “If you’re all done bickering,” Chloe began, as every eye in the room turned in her direction, “you could try <em>listening</em> to the problem.”</p><p>“Chloe! <em>Finally</em>!” Marinette sighed in relief. “Maybe now we can get some answers. Starting with ‘What am I doing out of bed at one in the morning?”</p><p>“Why, Marinette, are you… <em>glad</em> to see me?” Chloe asked in mock-surprise. “Relax; it doesn’t look like it was all that far of a trip for you and Adrien!” She let out a breath and addressed all of them. “We have a problem.”</p><p>“I gathered,” Adrien observed wryly. Marinette elbowed him in the ribs, and he dropped sheepishly into his seat next to her.</p><p>“It’s Iron Maiden,” Chloe explained. “The Stripper Ripper abducted her flatmate, and she and the Hound are looking for her as we speak, along with London Police. Amelie called me, so now I’m asking you: what are the Heroes of Paris going to do?”</p><p>Marinette’s eyes widened. “We have to help them, of course!”</p><p>Max and Nino exchanged a worried look, and Max frowned. “This is not a scenario for which we ever prepared,” he began slowly. “We have plans in place of what to do if someone who knows a hero’s identity is captured – that is why we have given emergency watches to people like M. Kubdel, Prefect Raincomprix, and your parents. But the situation is not the same. As far as we know, her flatmate does not know that she is Iron Maiden–”</p><p>“Hell, <em>we</em> don’t even know her identity,” Nino interjected.</p><p>“Although it would be easy enough to find out from the police report,” Max continued, nodding to Turing, who was hovering next to him.</p><p>Chloe glared at Max and cleared her throat. “With everything that girl has been through in the last week, is right now <em>really</em> the right time for us to be violating her privacy???” she demanded, arching an eyebrow in challenge. “And under these circumstances? Ugh! Utterly ridiculous!”</p><p>Sabrina covered Max’s hand with her own and squeezed. Max nodded slowly. “Very well.” Turning to Turing he instructed the robot, “Pull up the police report but redact any information regarding the identity of the person reporting the abduction or the address of the abducted.”</p><p>Turing whirred for less than a minute before projecting a hologram over the table for them to read. “This is the only case matching the criteria,” he reported. “The most recent information is a brief note from one hour and twenty-three minutes ago.”</p><p>Alya narrowed her eyes while reading and frowned. “It says it’s been nearly eight hours,” she pointed out. “Why are we only hearing about this now?”</p><p>Chloe shrugged. “Felix and Iron Maiden are handling it on their own. Amelie made the call right before <em>I</em> made the call because she thinks they need backup.”</p><p>“But any clues we might have found would be long gone by now.”</p><p>“It looks like the police were pretty thorough at the crime scene,” Chloe replied, nodding to the report.</p><p>Adrien cleared his throat. “All of that is irrelevant, and it still doesn’t solve <em>our</em> problem,” he told them. “What are we, the Heroes of Paris, going to do? After all, Felix is one of our miraculous holders. His partner is one of our allies – she’s even the designer for two devices we’re currently using, the Beam of Life and the jetpacks. It sounds to me like we owe it to her to help out.”</p><p>Marinette and Alya both nodded, though Nino and Max still looked skeptical.</p><p>“Is that really our best move, though?” Nino asked. “If both the Heroes of the UK are out hunting down the Ripper to rescue the woman he abducted, that’s one thing – they’ve been after this monster for months, almost as long as Felix has had his miraculous. But if the Heroes of Paris go on the warpath over this abduction, could someone figure out that there’s a connection between this missing girl and the Heroes? That could put Iron Maiden’s identity at risk. And we already decided not to pull on that particular string ourselves tonight.”</p><p>Alya sat up straight and narrowed her eyes at Nino. “We can’t just leave the girl in the hands of a serial rapist and murderer!” she argued, her lips set in a thin line. “Weren’t you just saying you wanted to be kissed again? Like,<em> ever</em>?”</p><p>“That’s <em>totally</em> not what I’m saying, babe,” he assured her quickly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.</p><p>“It is a matter of weighing the possible risks and rewards,” Max commented. “If the Heroes of Paris show up in London, the reward is the possibility of finding the missing girl. The risk is the likelihood that we would alert the Lynchpin or his agents or another party to the fact that this particular missing girl is an area of vulnerability for us in general or Iron Maiden in particular. That endangers all of us, including Anne O’Donnell herself. Looking at it tonight, I am uncertain that the probable risk is worth the improbable reward.”</p><p>“It’s not like you haven’t done that before,” Chloe pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “I seem to recall that back in the spring you turned this city upside down looking for me – thanks for that, by the way.”</p><p>“That was a different situation,” replied Max. “You are a hero, and the Lynchpin knew that. We could not betray that information to him by increasing our search efforts; the only new information we could give him was that we already knew you were missing.”</p><p>Adrien released a slow breath. “I agree with Alya,” he began. “Even apart from Felix being my cousin, the Heroes of the UK are part of our team. We can’t just abandon them to handle this on their own.”</p><p>Marinette let out a breath. “What do you think, Chlo?”</p><p>Chloe frowned and stared at the table, thinking. “Actually… I agree with Max and Nino,” she finally admitted, looking up. “They are our <em>allies</em>, and what we do here will set the tone for the rest of our interactions with our international allies – at least the ones in Europe – moving forward. Are we always going to be swooping in to help our friends in other countries the moment there’s a problem? Are we always going to be <em>able</em> to swoop in to help? You gave Felix the Dog Miraculous so he could protect his own country – as best he could, being on his own. Not so we could run over and bail him out every time. If we do all go over to London to turn it upside down and shake this time, we’ll always be looking over our allies’ shoulders. And they will come to either expect or resent that.”</p><p>Adrien furrowed his brows. “Didn’t you go to Somalia to help them out a few weeks ago?”</p><p>“That was different,” Chloe replied. “That was two of us going to help one of our allies at their request and under their direction. What I’m hearing sounds a little more like a reenactment of William the Conqueror.” Adrien arched an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Adrikins, I’ve read a book. Try not to act so surprised.”</p><p>Alya gave Chloe a look. “So what do you suggest that we do? Nothing?”</p><p>Chloe shook her head. “Absolutely not nothing. According to Amelie the Hound and Iron Maiden are out looking, and so are the Police – City and Metro. With any luck, they’ll be able to solve this by themselves. If they haven’t made any progress after a day or so, I’ll go over to help them out myself.”</p><p>Nino nodded. “Count me in, too, dude,” he told her. “After the stadium, I wouldn’t mind teaming up with Felix again.” Alya took his hand and kissed his cheek.</p><p>Adrien added, “What about Nath? Vigilance might be a way to locate the Ripper.”</p><p>Nino frowned. “Maybe, maybe not,” he replied. “It doesn’t always point him to the enemy he wants.”</p><p>“Still not a bad idea,” Chloe agreed. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”</p><p>Max raised an eyebrow. “Meaning you will bully him into agreeing?”</p><p>Chloe scoffed. “Have you been talking to Kim?”</p><p>“What about Sk8r Girl?” Alya suggested. “London has more than enough pigeons and rats for her to recruit to help her look.”</p><p>“Ryoku may be of assistance also, since she can cover more ground in her Wind Dragon form,” added Max.</p><p>“We can’t send too many people,” Chloe warned. “And they should have some input in who else comes and what we do. But if we get to that point, we can talk it over with them.”</p><p>Marinette gave Adrien a look. He shrugged, and she nodded. Leaning forward she stated, “Okay, so that’s what we’re doing to help them out <em>tomorrow</em>. But what about <em>now</em>? What can we do tonight?”</p><p>Sabrina hummed thoughtfully, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. “You know,” she told them, “it wasn’t everyone searching the city that actually found Chloe in the end. It was her emotions that clued me in to her location.”</p><p>“What are you suggesting?” asked Marinette.</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious? Emilie and I both give our miraculous to Amelie so she can do the same to find this Anne.”</p><p>Chloe frowned. “Didn’t you pass out when you unified the miraculous?” she pointed out.</p><p>Sabrina waved a hand dismissively. “That was because the Peacock was still damaged. It’s fixed now, so that shouldn’t be a concern.”</p><p>“Is it a good idea for <em>Tante</em> Amelie’s first time unifying the miraculous to be under these circumstances?” Adrien wondered.</p><p>“She can handle it,” Sabrina replied.</p><p>“That may be the case,” Max responded, “but is it wise for us to lose <em>both</em> our empaths simultaneously? After all, we do rely on your empathy to alert us to dangers and keep tabs on our teammates as a second layer of protection.”</p><p>“It would only be temporary.”</p><p>Marinette cleared her throat, the confident Ladybug look back in her eyes. “Split the difference,” she decided. “We’ll ask Emilie to give the Peacock to Amelie for now since that’s the one she is most familiar with. You and Nooroo stay here for now. Duusu is the more sensitive, after all, right?”</p><p>“That is correct, Mistress Guardian,” Nooroo confirmed, bobbing his head.</p><p>“Then that’s that,” Marinette finished. “You two, put together a team to back them up tomorrow – well, <em>today</em> now – if they need it. And if it takes too much longer than that, the gloves come off.” She sighed, slumping back into Adrien’s shoulder. “I only hope it will be enough.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That’s the end of “The Dark of Night,” though not the end of “The Darkest Nights.” The story continues with “The Darkest Nights” <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/71279076">Chapter 15</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. On Patrol with Killer Bee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>La Gymnaste (Nadine) is on patrol with Killer Bee when she asks an important question</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">La Gymnaste shivered in the sharp breeze coming off the river. When Lila had texted her after school and asked her to meet for a patrol tonight, she’d almost said no. After all, she and Philippe had been planning this date night for a while – they were going to take a walk through the Trocadéro after school, see a new movie, and then have dinner before going back to his apartment since his parents were going to be away… She sighed wistfully, thinking of what she had missed out on. This wasn’t the first time Lila had called and she’d had to cancel on him, and at least Philippe had understood, even though she couldn’t tell him <em>why</em> she had to run off to meet Lila. But…</p><p class="Preference">But if she wanted to meet Ladybug, this was just what she would have to do. After all, some of the other heroes had been forced to move their plans around because of superhero business, right? And according to Lila, this had to be her biggest priority. Nothing was more important than these superhero missions that she was going on with Killer Bee to help the Heroes of Paris.</p><p class="Preference">“Any luck yet?” a voice asked over the communicator Lila had given her before transforming.</p><p class="Preference">“Not yet, Killer Bee,” la Gymnaste replied, frowning. She shivered in the cool November wind that whistled down the mostly-deserted streets. Even though she had the long trench coat Philippe had let her borrow that afternoon to keep her warm, she was still cold. And suddenly the fact that her suit left her legs uncovered seemed like a terrible idea; her legs were completely covered in goosebumps and her knees were starting to knock together from shivering. “Do we <em>have</em> to find her tonight?” she asked, not for the first time.</p><p class="Preference">“We have to find her as quickly as we can,” Killer Bee retorted, an edge of irritation in her voice. “We can’t let anyone else get to her first.”</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah, yeah,” la Gymnaste grumbled. “If anyone gets to the courier before we do, she could be in danger…”</p><p class="Preference">“So you need to focus,” Killer Bee repeated. “You can’t be distracted by that boyfriend of yours if you’re going to be a hero and help me on these missions.”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste frowned and picked up her pace down the street. She sighed heavily.</p><p class="Preference">“Are you still thinking about that boyfriend?”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste hummed in surprise. She blushed. She couldn’t let Lila think that Philippe was distracting her! “No…” She coughed awkwardly. “Actually… I was thinking about that article on the Ladyblog from last month. You know? The interview with Ladybug where she talked about… well… um… you?”</p><p class="Preference">Killer Bee scoffed. “It sure was convincing wasn’t it?”</p><p class="Preference">“Well… I mean… yeah.”</p><p class="Preference">“So now you’re wondering if it’s true? If everything Ladybug said about the new Bee being a villain is correct?” There was a bit of a threatening edge to her voice.</p><p class="Preference">“I mean… are you?” la Gymnaste asked hesitantly. Killer Bee groaned. La Gymnaste panicked. “I’m sorry,” she rushed to add. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t you trust me?” asked Killer Bee, sniffling. “Are you <em>really</em> my friend?”</p><p class="Preference">“Yes…”</p><p class="Preference">“Then I think I can let you in on the secret.” Killer Bee hesitated for a moment. “I really can trust you, right? I mean, this is huge! I trusted you with my identity already; I <em>need</em> you to promise you won’t tell a soul!”</p><p class="Preference">“Yes!” insisted la Gymnaste. She paused under a streetlight to catch her breath, her eyes constantly moving, taking in the area around her, searching for the girl they were looking for.</p><p class="Preference">“But this is monumental!” Killer Bee warned her. “I mean, <em>no one</em> can know! That means you’d better not tell Philippe, either!”</p><p class="Preference">“O–okay…” La Gymnaste cleared her throat. “I mean, of course not.”</p><p class="Preference">“Okay…” Killer Bee let out a breath. “Ladybug decided that after Chloe saw me when we were out the first time that I needed a better cover than just ‘no one knows’,” she explained. “After all, if Chloe knew that I was out, and Chloe was working with Night Bat, then she could go back to Night Bat and tell him about me. Then the Lynchpin-ions would be on their guard so I couldn’t sneak up on them.”</p><p class="Preference">“So she said you <em>were</em> a Lynchpin-ion just to throw the Lynchpin-ions off?” La Gymnaste furrowed her brows in confusion. “But why say you’re one of them if you aren’t?”</p><p class="Preference">Killer Bee laughed. “If I were a Hero of Paris, would Ladybug have said I was a Lynchpin-ion?”</p><p class="Preference">“Well… no…” la Gymnaste admitted. “That certainly confused <em>me</em>…” <em>And </em>I<em> thought I knew better…</em></p><p class="Preference">“So if Ladybug is saying that I’m a Lynchpin-ion, but Night Bat knows I’m not on <em>his</em> side, then what would he assume that I am?”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste thought for a minute. “I guess he would assume you’re a maverick, someone not on either side, that you either stole or found the miraculous to use for yourself. But he would at least know you’re not with the Heroes of Paris.”</p><p class="Preference">“Exactly!” Killer Bee agreed. “So if he assumes I’m <em>not</em> with either side, then he won’t be on his guard when he sees me. He won’t be expecting me to go after <em>him</em> at the first opportunity if I’m not a hero, right?”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste nodded in realization. “Right!”</p><p class="Preference">“See? So Ladybug knows what she’s doing!”</p><p class="Preference">“I guess if you can’t be a true <em>unknown</em> secret weapon, being a ‘known unknown’ is the next best thing!” La Gymnaste let out a quiet breath in relief. “But what does that make me?”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, now <em>you</em> get to be <em>my</em> unknown secret weapon,” Killer Bee told her.</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste smiled. “I won’t let you down!”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m glad to hear it.” Killer Bee was quiet for a minute. “Any leads on this missing girl?”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste shook her head and took off down the street at a jog, pumping her legs in the hope that it would warm them up. “Nothing. What’s her story again?”</p><p class="Preference">“We identified her as a courier for Lynchpin’s drug operation a couple weeks ago, and we were hoping that she could lead us to his hideout, but she dropped off the map unexpectedly a few days ago,” Killer Bee explained. “If Lynchpin’s people find her, we lose the lead. If the police find her, Lynchpin’s people in the police department will kill her because she’s a loose end. So we need to find her first so we can get her information and keep her alive.”</p><p class="Preference">“Where did she disappear?”</p><p class="Preference">“She was in this arrondissement,” Killer Bee answered. “But that’s the best we’ve been able to put together.”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste frowned. “But if we still can’t find her tonight, what do we do?”</p><p class="Preference">“I guess we’ll have to try again,” Killer Bee bit back in response.</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste opened her mouth in a protest but fell silent as two shadows passed over her head. Looking up she recognized Miss Pinky and, based on the wings, Hato Gozen. “Oh! I just saw the two Heroes who are on patrol! Should I say ‘hi’?”</p><p class="Preference">“What!?!” Killer Bee gasped. “Of course not! We shouldn’t bother them while they’re busy!”</p><p class="Preference">“But we’re all out here doing the same thing, right?” she pointed out. “They’re looking for this missing girl, too, aren’t they?”</p><p class="Preference">Killer Bee scoffed. “Please,” she retorted. “The two heroes on patrol tonight have more important things to worry about than this missing person case.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh.” La Gymnaste frowned in disappointment.</p><p class="Preference">“Not that this isn’t <em>important</em>,” Killer Bee rushed to add. “But… well…” She sighed. “You still have a ways to go before you’re at that level.”</p><p class="Preference">“Okay…” La Gymnaste brightened. “If we solve this case, will that be enough for me to meet Ladybug?” she asked eagerly.</p><p class="Preference">“Eventually,” Killer Bee promised. “Finishing all of these less-important missions is all part of it. You’re really close to impressing Ladybug enough to really be a part of the team!”</p><p class="Preference">La Gymnaste gritted her teeth and set off at a jog. If she had to find this missing girl to really be accepted as a hero, then that’s what she would do.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. A Late Night Visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix is up late (or early, perhaps), when he gets an unexpected visitor</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, come on, cous!” Felix complained, smacking his desk in frustration. “Spawn kills? Really?”</p><p>“What can I say?” came Adrien’s reply. “I’m <em>feline</em> pretty good about the outcome of this game!”</p><p>Felix’s finger hovered over the re-spawn button. “It would be rather <em>cat</em>-astrophic for you if I got out of this, wouldn’t it?” He hit the button, and before he could roll out of the way, the screen instantly turned red. “Seriously!?”</p><p>Adrien chuckled. “I wouldn’t <em>pet</em> on any better outcomes next time!”</p><p>Barkk sat in front of the monitor, nibbling on a beef stick and watching the game with rapt attention. “Is the screen supposed to look like that?” she wondered, pointing at the pixelated blood splotches peppering the camera.</p><p>Felix glared half-heartedly at the Kwami. “No, Barkk, it’s not supposed to look like that.”</p><p>“Tell her that’s what it looks like when you’re getting <em>pounded</em>,” Adrien suggested wryly.</p><p>“Ha, ha,” Felix grumbled sarcastically. “I’m telling you, it’s the lag on my end. If we weren’t playing online, it would be such a different story.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” Adrien deadpanned. “Because <em>Eton</em> has such bad internet. You’ve gotta be <em>kitten</em> me.”</p><p>“I’m telling you, cous,” insisted Felix. “How about we settle it this weekend? I’ll–” He paused, cocking his head in confusion, as a faint whooshing sound came from his closet. “Is that you?”</p><p>“No…”</p><p>“Then who–”</p><p>Bri stepped through the closet door in pyjama pants and a sweatshirt, her feet bare. She gave him a nervous look. “Is this a bad time?”</p><p>“Never,” he assured her with a warm smile. A glance at his watch showed that it was almost three in the morning. Into the headset he added, “Sorry, cous, we’ll have to <em>tag</em> this discussion for later. I think my partner needs me.”</p><p>Adrien muttered a curse. “Considering the time, I should probably check in on <em>my</em> partner, too. Knowing her, she’s probably still awake, working on a design. ’Night.”</p><p>Felix closed his laptop and gestured Bri toward the bed. She perched on the edge, her hands folded, staring down at the floor. Barkk flew across the room to land on her lap, and Bri started absently scratching behind the Kwami’s ears.</p><p>“Bri! How’s my other favorite person in the world?” Barkk asked eagerly, licking her palm.</p><p>“I’m…” She picked the Kwami up and hugged her to her chest.</p><p>Felix watched Bri carefully. “How was patrol? Is Anne getting a better handle on her powers?”</p><p>Bri shrugged. “It was fine.”</p><p>He frowned. “So what’s–”</p><p>“I can’t sleep,” she interrupted, her shoulders slumping. “Every time I close my eyes, I see–” She choked back a sob and covered her face with her hands.</p><p>Felix was out of the desk chair in an instant, crossed the room and sat next to her. Bri put her head on his shoulder and sighed, tears starting to stream down her cheeks into his t-shirt. Barkk fluttered down to curl up on Bri’s shoulder, licking her neck gently. “It’s okay, <em>mon Fer</em>,” Felix whispered, putting his arm around her back and holding her as she sobbed quietly. “He’s gone. You’re safe.”</p><p>Her head jerked against his shoulder in a nod, and she sniffled. “I know,” she whispered presently, wrapping her arms around his chest. “I know, it’s just…”</p><p>He nodded, sighing heavily. “That doesn’t change what happened,” he finished for her. She shook her head. “Did something happen tonight to bring it back?” A nod. “Do you want to talk about it?” A shrug. “Do you want to talk to Anne about it?” he suggested.</p><p>Bri tensed. “I want to,” she admitted. “She was there for it. But…” She swallowed. “I don’t know. Whenever I ask her about how <em>she</em>’s doing, she brushes it off and turns the question back on me. She hasn’t really talked about what happened to <em>her</em>, so…”</p><p>Felix let out a breath and started running his hand up and down her arm soothingly. “That’s okay; you can always talk to me. So what happened tonight?”</p><p>Bri clenched her eyes shut. “We were on our way past a pub when I heard a noise in the alley between it and the building next to it. I switched to infrared, and I could see two people against the wall. We moved in a little closer, and I could just tell that something was wrong.” Felix held his breath. Her arms tightened around him. “She was trying to push him away, but she wasn’t really ‘with it’ – I’m pretty sure she must have been drugged. That or she was <em>really</em> drunk. Anne made a tree grow under him that pushed him up into the air and away from her, and I caught him with my grappling wire. Then Anne took the woman’s information and helped her home while I dropped the guy in front of the nearest police car.”</p><p>“It was good for her that you were there,” Felix observed. “Everything turned out well.” Bri’s shoulders shook. He sighed heavily. “And you started thinking about all the women we <em>didn’t</em> save from the Ripper?” She nodded. “And from there you started wondering about yourself?”</p><p>“What if I <em>hadn’t</em> had my bracelets that night?” she whispered. “What if my bracelet <em>hadn’t</em> shorted out the way it did?”</p><p>Felix placed his chin on her hair, holding her closely. She pulled her feet up onto the bed, and he slid along the bed to lean his back against the wall, guiding her head to rest on his chest. She sniffled as Barkk shifted positions and curled up on Felix’s chest beneath Bri’s chin. “You did survive,” he reminded her. “You were stronger than him.”</p><p>“Maybe. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” They reclined together on the bed for several minutes before Bri spoke again. “So what game were you playing?”</p><p>Felix hummed in surprise. “Spec Ops: War Games,” he replied. “Do you play video games?”</p><p>“Not too often lately,” she admitted. “Too many other things to do. But sometimes. I actually have an idea I’ve been playing around with for a few years: a VR/AR hybrid mobile game, though I haven’t gotten too far with it.”</p><p>“That would be pretty cool!”</p><p>She yawned. “I started on the coding, but I still need a premise for the game.”</p><p>“Still…” He slowly rubbed circles on her back.</p><p>“So tired…” she murmured. “Don’t stop…”</p><p>“Trouble sleeping? Nightmares?”</p><p>“Not just that,” she answered slowly. “I was up at five this morning for work, and I’m supposed to be up at five again today.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>She chuckled humourlessly. “Between classes and patrols, mornings are the only times I can get in my hours at the shop.”</p><p>“No, I mean why are you still working there?” he clarified. “It’s not like you need the money anymore. I mean, how much do you earn from each Beam of Life?”</p><p>“I… huh.” She paused and lifted her head to stare at him in surprise. “I hadn’t thought about that. Each sale actually earns me as much as a full day of wages at the repair shop.”</p><p>“So you’ve clearly sold enough of them to pay for next semester’s tuition and expenses, right?” She nodded. He chuckled. “The new portal in your apartment is a pretty good indicator of how well it’s selling!”</p><p>“Yeah…” She frowned. “I don’t know if I want to <em>stop</em> working, though.”</p><p>He shrugged. “It’s still an option if you’re getting overtired because of working so early. But you do need the sleep, <em>mon Fer</em>. We don’t need you flying into any more buildings.”</p><p>She sighed in resignation, burying her face in his chest. “I know. It’s just…” She paused. “Can I stay here for tonight?”</p><p>Felix slid down to lie alongside her, Barkk curled up between them. “Of course.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Many questions raised by this one-shot will be answered in “Group Therapy,” which will begin tomorrow!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Date at the Park</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ivan and Mylène have pastries at the park with friends</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Mylène smiled eagerly as she and Ivan made their way down the steps after school, the cool autumn air crisp against her face. The leaves had turned all different colors and begun to fall, though many still clung stubbornly to the trees. Her hand almost disappeared in her boyfriend’s gentle grip. When they had first started dating in collège, a few people had given them strange looks. They were opposites in so many ways: Ivan absolutely towered over her and could sweep her off her feet (both literally and metaphorically) with one hand tied behind his back. She was a little more outgoing; he was extremely quiet. She was always smiling; he rarely smiled, except when he was around his closest friends. And yet, their oppositeness just made them fit together so much better. When she was frightened, Ivan’s strong presence comforted her and gave her strength – there was a reason she preferred being with him over any of the other Heroes of Paris when they went on missions. On the other hand, when Ivan felt lonely, she was the one whose presence he desired. When Ivan had first asked her out, she had been utterly mystified; now she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it.</p><p class="Preference">Well, him and their two Kwamis. She slipped her purse open a crack and peeked inside to find Mullo and Stompp looking back up at her, Mullo with a half-eaten wheel of cheese in her mouth. “You know that if you eat all your cheese now, you won’t have any for our picnic,” she pointed out, suppressing a smile.</p><p class="Preference">Mullo shrugged. “I guess you’ll just have to pick up some more!” she squeaked, giggling. “They have some of the best cheese pastries!”</p><p class="Preference">It had become something of a weekly tradition for them this year: their class schedules on Wednesdays were lighter, so they didn’t have much homework to do on Tuesday afternoons. So after school on Tuesday they would pick up pastries from the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie, bring them to the park across the street, and have a picnic beside the Ladybug and Cat Noir statue, where they could watch the children playing on the carousel. Sometimes, privately, Mylène would imagine returning in a few years so her own children could ride that carousel. It was a chance to relax and just enjoy each other’s company, without worrying about school or the Heroes of Paris or any of their friends’ complicated lives.</p><p class="Preference">Ivan hummed, looking down at Mylène with a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing her back.</p><p class="Preference">She shook her head ruefully. Some days she thought that Ivan might know her better than she knew herself. “I was just thinking about Nadine,” she began quietly. “She hasn’t quite been the same this year, and I don’t know what it is. She’s so much more stressed out – she fell asleep in History this morning, and she snapped at Philippe when he woke her up.”</p><p class="Preference">Ivan furrowed his brows. “Nadine… You mean from Dupont? The one who follows Lila around all the time?”</p><p class="Preference">Mylène nodded. “That’s her.”</p><p class="Preference">Ivan’s eyes narrowed. Mylène leaned into his side and sighed. “I know.” They had discussed Lila at length on multiple occasions. When they had met Lila, Mylène had been excited about all the good things that she was doing, especially with all of the orphanages she was helping to start in Africa and the Middle East. The idea of all those poor orphans being given an opportunity at a better life was incredible! Ivan, however, had been more cautious in his assessment of Lila, though he had warmed up to her when she promised to help them get ballet tickets… which she kept putting off. At the time, Mylène had simply brushed it off: Lila was so busy all the time that some promises were bound to fall through.</p><p class="Preference">Then, just after Hawk Moth’s defeat, Ivan had abruptly soured toward Lila, but without explanation. Before that final battle, she and Ivan had considered offering to help Lila raise money for her orphanages; after the battle, that was completely off the table. Mylène had asked him about it, of course, and he had only said that she couldn’t trust everything Lila said. A little over a month after that, he and Ladybug had presented her with the Mouse Miraculous; less than a week later, when she had asked which new miraculous holder Lila might be, Ivan had answered by letting her in on the secret of who Ladybug really was. That was when the pieces had all fallen into place.</p><p class="Preference">The odds that <em>Marinette</em> would ever give <em>Lila</em> a miraculous were less than none.</p><p class="Preference">Still, friends though they might be, Nadine wasn’t Lila. Mylène raised an eyebrow at Ivan. “What do you think of inviting her and Philippe to join us at the park today?”</p><p class="Preference">Ivan’s hand on her back stopped moving for a moment and he looked down at her pensively. Finally he nodded. “That would be okay,” he agreed. He poked her in the side so she squirmed and let out an involuntary giggle before he kissed her on the forehead. “But dinner tonight’s still just us, right?”</p><p class="Preference">She squeezed his hand. “Dinner’s just us.”</p><hr/><p>Mylène carefully laid their blanket out in the grass under a tree that still retained most of its leaves while Ivan went across the street to the Dupain-Cheng bakery to pick up their order of pastries – including a handful of cheese pastries for Mullo and Stompp to share. Smoothing out the corners, Mylène sat down on one side, placed her purse on the ground next to her against the tree trunk so the Kwamis could sneak away if they wanted, and gestured for their friends to join her.</p><p class="Preference">“Thank you so much for asking us to come with you!” Nadine squealed excitedly, leaning forward and giving Mylène a quick hug.</p><p class="Preference">“I’m glad you came!” Mylène responded, beaming at her. “Even with half our classes together, we hardly ever get a chance to talk. School and everything else has just been <em>so</em> busy this year.”</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t I know it,” Philippe groaned as Ivan returned, setting a large bag of pastries on the blanket between them.</p><p class="Preference">“I don’t think I’ve had a free weekend since <em>July</em>,” Ivan observed wryly. He plopped down on the blanket next to Mylène, put his hands on her hips, and lifted her into his lap. “And only about <em>half</em> of those were because of work,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène stifled a giggle as she leaned back into his chest, smiling in contentment. Just about every weekend that Ivan hadn’t either been working or practicing with Kitty Section, the Heroes of Paris had been involved in one way or another. One weekend he and Luka had gone to a concert with Adrien and had to save XY. Another weekend he and Carapace – Nino – had represented the Heroes of Paris at a statue dedication. He had spent several weekends in Tibet, working for as long as the daylight had lasted to clear away debris and haul building materials around; those weekends he had come home aching in muscles he didn’t even know he had. That was when Mylène had been surprised to discover that she had a talent for giving massages.</p><p class="Preference">“It’s like the teachers all think they need to cram every gram of knowledge they can into us this year before we graduate,” Philippe commented, pursing his lips and draping his arm over Nadine’s shoulder. “They must not realize we’re probably all going to university <em>somewhere</em> next year…”</p><p class="Preference">“Where are you planning to go?” asked Mylène, pulling out a handful of macaroons and passing the bag to Philippe. She slipped a couple cheese-filled pastries into her purse for Mullo and Stompp and gave a few of the macaroons to Ivan before popping one in her own mouth.</p><p class="Preference">“I haven’t decided yet,” Philippe admitted, examining one of the pastries and frowning. “I’m still not really sure what I want to study, but I applied to U-Paris anyways. I can figure it out there, probably.”</p><p class="Preference">Nadine hummed and leaned into Philippe’s side, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I already applied to PSL for literature, but I really want to coach gymnastics.”</p><p class="Preference">“That does sound like a lot of fun!” Mylène agreed, grinning. “I help my Papa teach theater classes on weekends; he thinks I would make a good teacher.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” Ivan pointed out, wrapping his arms around her and snatching the pastry bag, rummaging around inside it to find a couple light brown bonbons.</p><p class="Preference">“Do you know what you’re going to do, Ivan?” asked Nadine curiously.</p><p class="Preference">He shook his head. “I want to study music, but I’m not sure if that’s what I want to do for work.”</p><p class="Preference">“What about Kitty Section?” Philippe asked.</p><p class="Preference">“That doesn’t really qualify as <em>work</em>,” Ivan joked, letting out a rumbling laugh. He shrugged. “Luka wants to tour as much as we can, but touring would make university really challenging. That’s fine for him and Juleka and Rose – they’re not planning on University – but…”</p><p class="Preference">Philippe nodded. “I suppose that must keep you pretty busy. Still, being in a serious touring band must be awesome!”</p><p class="Preference">“It <em>is</em> really fun to go to their concerts,” Mylène noted, smiling.</p><p class="Preference">Nadine frowned. “That must cut into how much time you see each other, though.”</p><p class="Preference">Mylène shrugged. “We’ve gotten used to it. But sometimes it does make it difficult.”</p><p class="Preference">“That sounds familiar,” Philippe commented, raising an eyebrow at Nadine.</p><p class="Preference">She sighed. “Fall means there are a lot of competitions, and that means a lot of practices,” she reminded him, resting her cheek on his shoulder and sighing. “I’ve had practices every weekend since August,” she explained to Mylène. “I knew <em>terminale</em> meant competing more, but I didn’t realize how <em>much</em> more of a commitment it would be this year.”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s not <em>just</em> weekends,” Philippe pointed out, frowning.</p><p class="Preference">Nadine’s cheeks took on a pink tinge and she tensed, looking away. “Yeah…”</p><p class="Preference">“If it’s something you enjoy, that makes the time commitment worth it,” Ivan told them.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène nodded. “And that makes it easier to support them,” she added, glancing up at Ivan, who smiled down at her and rested his chin on her hair.</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah, I know,” Philippe acknowledged. He looked troubled, raising an eyebrow at Nadine. “Still, there have been a lot of these unexpected practices…”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m sorry,” Nadine apologized, kissing him on the cheek. “I don’t <em>like</em> having to cancel at the last minute. But this is really important.”</p><p class="Preference">“I know that,” he assured her. He smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. “And I can’t wait for your next competition to see all that hard work pay off!”</p><p class="Preference">Nadine beamed up at him and hugged him tighter. “I’m glad you’re going to come!”</p><p class="Preference">“Me, too,” he agreed, tracing his fingernail up and down her arm until she shivered. He glanced over at Mylène and Ivan and nodded. “Thanks,” he told them, a small smile on his lips. “This was nice.”</p><p class="Preference">Mylène beamed at them, burrowing back into Ivan’s warm chest. “This <em>was</em> fun!” she agreed happily. “We definitely have to do this again!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Elders' Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Farah stops in to visit his "grandfather" and listen to war stories</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All of the characters in this one-shot are original; the recognizable ones first appeared in “Fear Itself.” All of the new characters are in the Wiki.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Farah entered the garden in the center of the New Atlantis Elders’ Home to find four people sitting around a table carved from a flash-petrified tree stump and sipping iced tea. One of the elders looked up on seeing him, his face lighting up brightly. “Good morning, <em>Awoowe</em>,” Farah called, waving eagerly. [“Grandfather”]</p><p class="Preference">“‘Morning’?” repeated Haji, eyes widening in surprise. “But it’s almost dinnertime, child!”</p><p class="Preference">Farah shrugged. “Well, what else <em>should</em> I call it?” he asked rhetorically. “I had only just finished my morning chores for Aziza when Nawal came to pick me up. Last I knew, it was nine in the morning!”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, it’s almost five here,” Haji informed him. “But I suppose that’s the price we pay to be able to visit like this.”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s not too bad,” Farah replied, chuckling. “Beats having to fly! I see you are happy here?”</p><p class="Preference">Haji smiled benignly. “I am quite happy,” he agreed. “I sit in the sun for hours at a time, sipping coffee and reminiscing about old adventures. Dekha–” A cloud passed over his face and he swallowed. “Dekha would have enjoyed this place.”</p><p class="Preference">The other man in the group, a wizened elder with a receding hairline, leaned forward and peered up at Farah through his thick glasses. “And who might you be, child?” he inquired, eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on Farah’s features.</p><p class="Preference">The elderly woman with thinning white hair sitting next to him smacked his arm lightly. “Will, haven’t you been paying attention? This must be Haji’s grandson, the one he’s been telling us about!”</p><p class="Preference">Haji nodded agreeably. “Meet my ‘grandson’, Farah,” he told them. “His parents were two of the greatest miraculous users I ever had the privilege to mentor. Farah,” he continued, smiling, “these are some of my neighbors.” He pointed at the man first. “Will is a retired Guardian – that was my position at the Somali temple.”</p><p class="Preference">“Why don’t you pull up a chair, Son?” asked Will, pointing to a stack on the far side of the garden. Farah quickly obeyed and sat down between Haji and a woman who looked a bit younger, streaks of black still showing through her grey hair.</p><p class="Preference">Haji next pointed to the woman sitting beside Will. “Auriel was a miraculous holder – hers was the Numbat Miraculous. Nooma was your name, correct?”</p><p class="Preference">Auriel sighed wistfully. “That was a <em>long</em> time ago when I finally relinquished Noom…”</p><p class="Preference">Will scoffed. “He still pops in to visit you every week – that’s why you go through so much trail mix, isn’t it?”</p><p class="Preference">Auriel shook her head in annoyance. “It’s not the same thing, and you know it!”</p><p class="Preference">The woman sitting next to Farah hummed. “I do still miss having Hopp around for company,” she agreed, nodding.</p><p class="Preference">“Emma was the leader of the Australian Miraculous Team,” Haji explained, gesturing to the last woman. “You served until… thirty years ago now, didn’t you say?” he asked, cocking his head.</p><p class="Preference">Emma nodded, looking off into the distance. “Thirty-five years I’ve been retired from active service,” she confirmed. “But it was only about ten years ago that I finally passed my miraculous on to the new Joey.”</p><p class="Preference">“That was a long time to be a miraculous user!” Haji noted, inclining his head.</p><p class="Preference">Emma shrugged. “The early years were probably the hardest,” she answered. “The previous Joey was killed in the early days of the War, so I was stuck trying to learn on the fly.”</p><p class="Preference">“Ah, I know how that goes,” Haji responded. “Farah’s parents were killed in action, and we couldn’t recruit their replacements right away.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, you poor thing,” Emma cooed, patting Farah’s arm.</p><p class="Preference">Farah gave a noncommittal shrug. “I wasn’t even two at the time, so I really don’t remember much of my parents,” he explained. “Haji and Dekha raised me.”</p><p class="Preference">“Ah.” Will nodded knowingly. “That sounds like what happened with Donna’s boy.”</p><p class="Preference">“You know he still sends me Christmas cards,” Auriel observed, sighing. “Why, his wife retired from the Guild last year!”</p><p class="Preference">“No kiddin’?” Will gave her a look of surprise. “I didn’t think she was old enough to be retiring!”</p><p class="Preference">“Wendy’s over seventy now. Their fourteenth grandchild was just born last month.”</p><p class="Preference">“Seventy, you say?” He shook his head. “When did we get so old?”</p><p class="Preference">“Speak for yourself!” Auriel retorted.</p><p class="Preference">Farah looked back and forth between them in confusion as they discussed people he had never heard of before. Dekha and Haji had occasionally done this themselves: occasionally they would talk about the old heroes they had known as if they were still right there, leaving him to wonder how much of the story they were making up as they went. Although now that he knew of the miraculous, he could only assume that everything they had told him had been the absolute truth. A lump formed in his throat – if only he had paid more attention to Dekha’s stories. If only he had told her he loved her more often. If only…</p><p class="Preference">“Are you wondering what they’re talking about?” asked Emma, leaning over to whisper into his ear. Farah nodded. “Auriel was a team leader during the War,” she explained. Her lips set in a thin line. “One of her teammates was captured by the Japanese and executed.”</p><p class="Preference">Auriel stopped midsentence and turned toward them on hearing their conversation. She nodded regretfully. “Ari-Bear was one of my best friends.” She sniffed, wiping away a tear. “We were supposed to rendezvous in Tokyo once we arrived in the country, but she never showed up. A couple days later, we watched her decapitation on television. We reclaimed her miraculous before the end of the war, but we never recovered her body.”</p><p class="Preference">Will frowned, shaking his head. “Everything about that war was awful,” he commented. “So many good people lost, it’s a wonder we ever recovered from it.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, come now,” Auriel scoffed. “You make it sound like we <em>lost</em> the war!”</p><p class="Preference">He chuckled. “I do not regret the war at all,” he insisted, “even if I played a very small part in it.”</p><p class="Preference">“How do you mean?” Farah asked curiously.</p><p class="Preference">“I was naught but a Novice then,” he answered, frowning in reminiscence. “They assigned me to a coastal watch sector, to watch for any Japanese ship that might breach our protective wards – none did, of course, but we didn’t know if their technology might allow them to find us. So I spent much of the war staring out at the sea and trying not to pass out from boredom!”</p><p class="Preference">“Every job was important,” Emma reminded him. “We <em>all</em> had our part to play.”</p><p class="Preference">Haji nodded his agreement. “World War II was one of the first times in recent history that multiple of the African temples were forced to come together to complete a single objective,” he explained, smiling at the memory. “I was a mere initiate at the time, but I was tapped to travel to Egypt with two of our miraculous holders near the onset of the war. The Axis were making incursions into North Africa, and the Egyptian team had asked for our support to resist their attacks. That was my first experience of the Egyptian temple.”</p><p class="Preference">“Egypt?” Farah asked, surprised. “I don’t remember you saying anything about visiting Egypt.”</p><p class="Preference">“It was a long time ago,” Haji replied, sighing heavily. “And unlike many of our other adventures, the War was nothing but an all-out brawl. There is nothing <em>heroic</em> about war – and that one even less. The Nazis were barbarians. Hitler had been experimenting to produce his own super-humans, and the Übermacht had deployed three of their more… ‘successful’ products to North Africa. We and the Egyptians fought them in the desert near El Alamein. Both the Wildebeest and the Rhinoceros of the time were killed, but we finally stopped them.”</p><p class="Preference">“What were they?”</p><p class="Preference">Haji shuddered. “Abominations. The one shattered the ground with every step. Another was utterly impervious to pain: The Wildebeest ripped his arm off, and he only laughed before crushing her head. And the third… he could paralyze a man with his mind. The Great Scarab engaged him in a mental battle that lasted hours before the Ant got close enough to garrote him.”</p><p class="Preference">Farah’s eyes widened. “And that’s really what happened, <em>Awoowe</em>?”</p><p class="Preference">Haji nodded slowly. “That’s what happened. The Allies repulsed the Nazi armor while we held the Überriege at bay. The Malian team fought off another abomination in Morocco, but our part was finished. All that remained was to return home.”</p><p class="Preference">“Do you remember that ninja in Kyoto?” Auriel asked abruptly, turning to Emma.</p><p class="Preference">“<em>Remember</em> him? I still have the scar he gave me in that fight! ” Emma answered with a laugh, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a thin line running down her bicep. “When we finally cornered him, the others had to contend with a small army of samurai while I fought the Ninja. In the end it was just me and him and…” she shrugged, smiling wistfully. She blinked and looked over at Farah. “Ah, I’m sure this is boring for a young one like you, child, listening to us oldsters chatter on about adventures long past,” she apologized. “My granddaughter has heard them all over and over; I think now she prefers her phone to visiting with us!”</p><p class="Preference">Farah shook his head. “Actually,” he replied, smiling, “I find it fascinating to listen to your tales – especially now that I know they’re all true! In fact,” he added, patting Haji’s arm, “I will be sure to return to visit. After all, I can leave home after breakfast, spend a few hours here in the afternoon, and return home by lunch!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tomorrow look for the next “SLD Case Report”: “The safe-T-lite Situation.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The Christmas Market</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Julia and Pablo take Marco to see a Christmas market by the Eiffel Tower.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Julia’s grip on Marco’s hand tightened involuntarily as they walked through the Christmas market set up around the Champ de Mars. Booths had been set up every few meters from one end of the park to the other along the pavement, even underneath the Eiffel Tower itself, with narrow aisles between the individual stalls and wide avenues for pedestrians. Smells of Christmas filled the air – evergreen wreaths decorated with red ribbons and silver bells in the stall to their left, gingerbread men in the stall to their right. Down the lane ahead of them, close to the nearest Tower leg, were a number of refreshment stands, at one of which she could see Marinette’s black pigtails and Chloe’s blonde ponytail.</p><p class="Preference">“¡Mama!” Marco whined, pulling her forward. “¡Quiero chocolat!”</p><p class="Preference">“Later, muchacho,” she told him, shaking her head. “I want to find a Christmas present for Tia Paola first.”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo gave her waist a gentle squeeze, and she glanced up at him in time to meet his lips with her own. “You know,” he mused, raising an eyebrow, “hot chocolate sounds good to warm up.”</p><p class="Preference">She smirked. “It’s not <em>that</em> cold, mi amor,” she replied, raising an eyebrow at him. “Only 10.”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo shivered, giving her an unimpressed look. “Do you know how ‘cold’ it was when I left yesterday? 25! And suddenly I need a <em>sweatshirt</em>!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia stifled a laugh, and instead wrapped her arm around him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “Why don’t you and Marco check out the snacks? I want to look at these games; I think Paola might like that one with the cats and birds.”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo gave her a kiss on the forehead, grabbed Marco under the armpits, and swung the toddler up onto his shoulders in one swift motion. “¡Vamonos, ’chacho!”</p><p class="Preference">“¡Chocolate!” cheered Marco, grinning excitedly and grabbing a tuft of Pablo’s hair to hold on.</p><p class="Preference">“Bring me one, too!” Julia called after them before smiling fondly and turning into the next stall. Set back a bit from the pedestrian walkway, the two tables were covered with hand-carved board games. The one on the end which had caught her attention was a chessboard lined with wooden pieces – the white using different varieties of birds (pigeons for the pawns, all the way up to an eagle as the king), and the black using different types of cats (housecats as pawns, lion as the king). Julia smiled on looking a little closer at the knight, who appeared to be riding a jaguar.</p><p class="Preference">“That was one of my favorite games to make,” the elderly man behind the table commented, smiling proudly.</p><p class="Preference">“It is very intricate,” Julia told him, nodding appreciatively. “I have a friend who would absolutely love it!”</p><p class="Preference">“For you, €100.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia withdrew a couple bills from her purse and handed the over while the man placed the game pieces in a box along with the board. With a thank you, Julia slid the box into her large tote bag.</p><p class="Preference">“Ow!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia glanced into the bag and rolled her eyes on seeing Mettli’s reproachful face staring up at her. The Kwami rubbed her head with a frown. “You can’t fool me,” Julia told her, looking around surreptitiously to make sure none of the people walking past on either side of her were paying attention. “I know you just phased through it!”</p><p class="Preference">Mettli huffed and rose up to the rim of the bag, folding her arms. “It’s not that,” she replied. “You got a game with birds and <em>cats</em>? Why not <em>dogs</em>?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia giggled. “He didn’t have one with dogs,” she explained, shrugging. “And anyways, this isn’t for <em>us</em>; it’s for Paola.”</p><p class="Preference">Mettli scoffed. “Still, dogs are better.”</p><p class="Preference">“No arguments there,” Julia agreed, rubbing Mettli’s head.</p><p class="Preference">Mettli hummed. “You know what would make it better, right? Some more of that cured beef!”</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t you still have any in there?” Julia asked as she stepped into another booth to look at an assortment of printed shirts. She pursed her lips as she flipped through a stack of shirts with animated characters on them.</p><p class="Preference">“I finished it all,” Mettli informed her.</p><p class="Preference">“I packed enough for a day!”</p><p class="Preference">“A <em>short</em> day!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia rolled her eyes. “Well, I can’t help you there. Maybe Pablo will pick up some more while they’re getting snacks.” She paused while looking at two of the shirts and hummed in contemplation. On checking the sizes she grinned excitedly and pulled them out. Two €20 notes later, Julia stuck the shirts into her bag, dropping them on top of Mettli.</p><p class="Preference">The Kwami giggled as she phased through the shirts. “Let me guess: Luis and Maria?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia grinned. “As if I’d get them for anyone else!” She cocked her head in surprise and stepped to the side, out of the traffic. Closing her eyes she concentrated on the niggling sensation in the back of her mind. A miraculous was close by… two of them, in fact… only a couple stalls over… and she could already tell it wasn’t the Ladybug or the Eagle. But it did feel familiar. Her eyes opened wide in realization. “Oh, of course…” she murmured.</p><p class="Preference">An enormous boy rounded the corner, his arm around a tiny girl with her hair pulled back in a pink-and-blue kerchief – Taureau Dechaine and Multiplice (Ivan and Mylène?). He whispered something into her ear, and she giggled.</p><p class="Preference">“How are you two?” Julia greeted them, smiling warmly.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène’s eyes lit up in recognition. “We’re doing great!” she replied, grinning. “Just looking around at everything right now. But my Papa needs a new phone case, and I’m thinking about getting him a Taureau Dechaine one. Ivan thinks that’s too on-the-nose, though. He suggested Kitty Section if anything.”</p><p class="Preference">“Not a Multiplice one?” Julia asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.</p><p class="Preference">Mylène shook her head. “If he ever found out…” She sighed. “He would worry too much.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia nodded in understanding. “I imagine he would be proud of you, though.”</p><p class="Preference">“I hope so.” She hummed slowly. “So are you shopping, too?”</p><p class="Preference">“Just picking up a couple more presents for my teammates,” Julia explained, grinning and spreading her arms to take in the park. “That and enjoying the Christmas atmosphere!”</p><p class="Preference">Mylène nodded enthusiastically. “I come here every year to do my Christmas shopping!” She furrowed her brows, looking around in confusion. “But where’s Marco? Isn’t he with you?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia chuckled. “He’s with his Papa,” she replied. “Pablo took him off to get some snacks. They should be back soon… if they aren’t busy trying to finish off all the sweets in the park!”</p><p class="Preference">Ivan let out a rumbling laugh. “Now <em>that</em> I would pay to see!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia rolled her eyes. “Just wait until you have one of your own…” she muttered as she felt an arm slide around her waist. Even before she looked, she knew Pablo’s presence and leaned into his touch. Pablo handed her a mug, and she took a slow sip of the creamy hot chocolate. She frowned: something seemed to be missing…</p><p class="Preference">“Did you have any luck?” Pablo asked her, setting Marco down and opening a bag of macaroons for her to pick one out.</p><p class="Preference">“I want más!” Marco whined, reaching for the bag.</p><p class="Preference">Pablo lifted the bag out of his reach and shook his head. “Let Mama have one.”</p><p class="Preference">She looked into the half-empty bag and raised an eyebrow dubiously. “I hope Marco didn’t eat all of those!” she warned Pablo. “I was just about to explain to Ivan here that if you got Marco so hyped up on sugar that he starts running laps around the park, <em>he</em> can help you wrangle him – if he’s so interested in seeing that!”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo snorted. “No, not all of those were Marco,” he replied. “He’s only had a couple so far.”</p><p class="Preference">“Good. We don’t need a repeat of <em>last</em> time…” Julia opened her bag and pulled out the first shirt, holding it open to show him.</p><p class="Preference">“Is that for Maria?” Pablo asked wryly.</p><p class="Preference">“Is she your Roadrunner Miraculous holder?” asked Mylène.</p><p class="Preference">Julia shook her head. “She actually has the Coyote; her husband has the Roadrunner.”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh! How cute!” Mylène cooed.</p><p class="Preference">Julia selected a macaroon and popped it in her mouth. Almost immediately she pursed her lips. “What flavor is this?”</p><p class="Preference">“Orange – your favorite?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia hummed. “I don’t think I want orange today.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh! Did you find some beef for Mettli?”</p><p class="Preference">Pablo passed her another bag. “Atsaa wouldn’t let me forget,” he answered.</p><p class="Preference">Julia removed a couple meat sticks from the bag and dropped them in her tote for Mettli before catching a whiff of the cured meat. She had been thinking about protein… She took a bite of one of the remaining sticks. Still missing something… Finally she removed the lid from her hot chocolate, dipped the meat stick in it, and tasted that. Perfect.</p><p class="Preference">Pablo raised an eyebrow at her but shrugged. “Shall we take a look at those wooden trains over there?” he suggested, indicating the far side of the Tower. “Then get Marco’s picture with Père Noël?”</p><p class="Preference">Julia nodded happily. “We’ll see you two again sometime,” she called to Ivan and Mylène before taking Pablo’s arm and allowing him to steer her toward one of the stalls halfway down the lane. Marco pulled his hand out of Pablo’s and raced ahead of them into the stall. “Don’t touch anything!” she warned him.</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t worry,” Pablo whispered conspiratorially as they followed him to the stall, shelves on all sides covered with wooden trains in all shapes and sizes. Hand-carved buildings were set up in a small Christmas village behind a glass panel. “Atsaa will keep him out of trouble.”</p><p class="Preference">“Mama!” Marco shouted, staring transfixed at a train set with a handcrafted station sand shed near the back of the stall, sitting in front of a tub full of train cars. “Can we get it for Mettli and Atsaa and Russa and–”</p><p class="Preference">Julia smiled. “It is a good size for them, isn’t it?” She hummed thoughtfully. “You want to get them a present?” He nodded. “That’s so sweet of you! Why don’t you pick out which train you want to get with it?”</p><p class="Preference">“Yay!” Marco cheered, pointing at a gold train.</p><p class="Preference">Pablo picked up the train and nodded. “Good choice, ’chacho.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia smiled fondly, watching as Pablo paid for the train set, holding Marco’s hand tightly while he tried to squirm away and look closer at the Christmas village. The vendor boxed up the pieces, and Julia placed them in her bag before picking Marco up, bracing him against her hip. As they continued walking around the Christmas market, she could feel tears at the corners of her eyes, seeing the childlike joy on Marco’s face. He had been so young at Christmas last year; he didn’t remember any of it. But this year he would remember. And they would make the most of it, with just the three of them. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tomorrow look for the next “SLD Case Report”: “An Arson Investigation.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. A Horticultural Experiment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Max tests magic with science... with perhaps predictable conclusions!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one-shot takes place during “Tokyo: Time and Again,” a day or two after “Christmas” chapter 11 (which was closer to New Year’s). But there isn’t any connection between this and “Tokyo.”</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Max frowned, staring at the monitor in front of him. “Is this accurate?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of the data figures scrolling past.</p><p class="Preference">“Affirmative,” chirped Markov. “All sensors are operating within normal parameters!”</p><p class="Preference">Max furrowed his brows and hummed slowly. Tapping the microphone control he called, “Please repeat that action.” To Markov he added, “Ensure that Turing is monitoring the chlorophyll statistics for the duration of the test.”</p><p class="Preference">The moment Markov beeped his affirmation, Max pressed a button on the control panel to activate a light in the butterfly garden. Bandruí sucked in a long breath, rolling her shoulders. Letting out her breath, she dropped her arms to hang slack at her sides before slowly raising them to shoulder height, curling her fingers as she did so. The grass around her feet shifted in color slightly and began to grow rapidly, tripling in height and forming heads filled with seeds. Even before the plants had stopped growing, Turing dropped down to skim the grass, plucking a dozen samples of the seeds.</p><p class="Preference">“Fascinating,” Max murmured as the numbers on his screen updated. “Assuming that this information is correct, and factoring out potential confounding variables, she is causing the affected plants to undergo some form of ‘hyper-photosynthesis.’ Their behavior is still that of common grass, but it has been accelerated.”</p><p class="Preference">“To the best of my analysis, the grass remains genetically identical,” Turing reported. “Further testing may demonstrate abnormalities, however.”</p><p class="Preference">Max nodded slowly. “We will have to await those results before we can draw any definitive conclusions,” he conceded.</p><p class="Preference">“Can I take this thing off?” Bandruí asked, rubbing her forehead below the golden band studded with electrodes. She held her arm out to Turing, who removed a collection tube from a port they had placed in her elbow before the experiment began.</p><p class="Preference">“You may,” Max responded, pressing the microphone button. “And thank you,” he added.</p><p class="Preference">“Just don’t let this thing suck me dry,” she responded, eyeing Turing warily. “I still need some of that blood, you know.”</p><p class="Preference">“Still no luck scientifically proving the existence of magic?” asked Sabrina, pushing away from the lab table where she and the Kwamis had been watching him work and resting her hands on Max’s shoulders.</p><p class="Preference">“Not as of yet,” he admitted, grimacing. The display showing Bandruí’s vital signs froze in place for a moment before recycling. “I had hoped to find some anomaly to show how she is… well… <em>doing</em> what she is doing. But as of now I have been unsuccessful.”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina hummed, kissing him on the cheek.</p><p class="Preference">“There is a spike right here in her brain scan while she is actively using her powers,” he continued, furrowing his brows in concentration. “However, that section of her brain is active constantly, even when her powers are not active. And because I do not have a scan from before she received this ability for comparison, I cannot say for certain whether this is the cause of her power, or just connected to it, or even an unrelated anomaly.” He frowned. “As of now all I can conclude definitively is that her power functions differently from Miss Pinky’s.”</p><p class="Preference">“She really is extraordinary,” Kaalki observed from her position on the lab table, waving her carrot at the display. “Reminds me of Atlantis…”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina smiled and asked, a hint of amusement in her voice, “Would it be so bad for magic to remain a mystery?”</p><p class="Preference">He shook his head. “I suppose not,” he allowed. “At least not where our allies are concerned. However, should we meet any more evil magic users, containment could prove difficult if we cannot understand how their powers operate.”</p><p class="Preference">“Doesn’t New Atlantis have something that works?”</p><p class="Preference">Max furrowed his brows in thought. “Not that they have mentioned before now. That would be a question for Cissy,” he decided, raising an eyebrow at Markov, who chirped in acknowledgment. Pressing the button again, he called, “Miss Pinky, it is time for our next test.”</p><p class="Preference">In the butterfly garden, Miss Pinky twirled the rake over her head and slammed it into the soil. “Cornucopia!” she shouted, dragging the rake behind her in a straight line across the garden, alongside the well-worn path leading from the elevator to the conference room. Nine rows of violets sprang up behind her in the furrows left behind by the rake. Turing swooped down to hover directly above the new growth, extended a manipulating arm, and plucked three of the flowers from different rows.</p><p class="Preference">“Could you put in some lilacs?” Sabrina asked through the speaker system. Taking her finger off the microphone, she gave Max an amused smile. “We might as well be thorough with the test.”</p><p class="Preference">He nodded in concession. “And you wanted more flowers in your garden?” he teased, grinning.</p><p class="Preference">She shrugged. “We can kill two birds with one experiment.”</p><p class="Preference">“Affirmative.”</p><p class="Preference">As the two outer rows of flowers shifted from violets to lilacs, Turing picked another sampling of flowers and placed all of them into a sample container in his chassis. A light flashed rapidly on the container before slowing down, turning solid, and going out.</p><p class="Preference">“Turing has finished his preliminary analysis,” Markov announced, activating his holoprojector. Four sets of data appeared in separate columns.</p><p class="Preference">Max leaned in closer, skimming through the information quickly. Next to him, Sabrina pursed her lips, tapping her chin. “How accurate is this?” Max wondered.</p><p class="Preference">“Turing estimates it to be correct within 4% margin of error,” answered Markov promptly.</p><p class="Preference">“What do you see?” Sabrina asked, leaning closer to read over his shoulder.</p><p class="Preference">“Almost nothing.” Max pointed to two of the data points. “The new flowers are virtually identical to the ‘natural’ samples. The only difference between them is that Cornucopia produced flowers lacking these genetic mutations – a purer strain of the naturally-occurring species. And all of the samples for each species are entirely identical genetically.”</p><p class="Preference">Kaalki smirked, swallowing her mouthful of carrot, and drifted over to perch on Max’s shoulder. “I told you, kiddo: miraculous magic is beyond your science.”</p><p class="Preference">“Perhaps,” Max allowed. “But the analysis is still illuminating. For example, now we know that it would be unwise to rely exclusively on Cornucopia to repopulate a crop plant.”</p><p class="Preference">“<em>I</em> could have told you that,” Kaalki scoffed.</p><p class="Preference">“That famine was not Daizzi’s fault,” Nooroo objected. “The carrot rot came out of nowhere.”</p><p class="Preference">“It was years before I got another one!” Kaalki shot back, glaring across the room at Nooroo, who eyed her tranquilly.</p><p class="Preference">“Can we get back to work?” Max hit the button again. “Bandruí, try influencing the new flowers.”</p><p class="Preference">In the garden, Bandruí knelt next to the outermost row of violets and cupped one of the flowers in her hand. The plant grew taller and twisted around, turning its petals to face her. Additional leaves grew along the stem and opened up. Hovering next to the flower, Turing carefully removed one of the new leaves.</p><p class="Preference">“Was your experience with these flowers any different than before?” Max asked.</p><p class="Preference">Bandruí furrowed her brows in thought and slowly shook her head. “Not really. Maybe they were a little more awake and responsive, but that’s it.”</p><p class="Preference">“So can you actually <em>hear</em> the plants?” Miss Pinky asked curiously, leaning against her rake. “That’s so cool!”</p><p class="Preference">Bandruí frowned, lips pursed in concentration. “It’s… sort of. It’s not really <em>hearing</em>, hearing; it’s more like a subconscious perception. Plants don’t exactly experience life the same way we do, so it’s not like a flower can have a conversation. They can’t convey what’s happening around them. But they can relay when there’s something wrong with the soil, or the water, or the air. Like when a nutrient is missing from the ground.”</p><p class="Preference">“That is wild,” Miss Pinky commented. “I wish I could hear what they’re saying.”</p><p class="Preference">“But you can make plants appear out of nowhere?” Bandruí asked, straightening up. “That’s more than <em>I</em> can do.”</p><p class="Preference">Max turned away from the video monitor to examine his data again. Numbers and diagrams and scans scrolled past rapidly, each one more bewildering than the last. He had put this experiment together in the hope of understanding a little more about how this magic worked, but what had they really learned?</p><p class="Preference">“The analysis on the latest sample is complete,” Markov chirped. “Chlorophyll levels are higher than the previous sample.”</p><p class="Preference">“Compare to the experiment on ‘natural’ flowers,” Max instructed.</p><p class="Preference">“Approximately 7% greater increase, with 2% margin of error.”</p><p class="Preference">“So there is a discernible difference when they cooperate,” he mused. “That at least gives us <em>something</em>…”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina wrapped an arm around Max’s waist and hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “So what are you going to tell the others?”</p><p class="Preference">“At the moment?” He chuckled wryly. “My working theory is ‘a wizard did it’.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tomorrow look for the first chapter of “Tokyo: Time and Again.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Sextortion Follow-Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While on patrol with Sabrina, Max found a girl from their lycée (Fantine) in anguish over being targeted for sextortion by a boy in their year. The next day, Max has to report everything that happened.</p><p>Oh, and Marinette got an unusual text that night, too...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one-shot serves as a follow-up to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732992/chapters/74512827">“Patrol Logs” chapter 26</a> and takes place the morning thereafter. I didn’t want to pause <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117810/chapters/74185608">“Tokyo”</a> to publish this, but I also didn’t want to wait until after “Tokyo,” either, so 2 chapters today!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“Can you explain this text I got last night?”</p><p class="Preference">Max sighed heavily and stepped off the sidewalk into an alley, Markov hovering by his head. He had been hoping to avoid this particular conversation until he had something more to report to them. But of course he did not have that kind of luck. “Did you see the original message?”</p><p class="Preference">In the video call, Marinette cocked her head to the side in confusion. “‘<em>Original</em> message’? No… all I saw was a new message while I was knitting last night. When I finally opened it this morning there was this thing from Turing stating that the Heroes of Paris had discovered the sender in the middle of committing an illegal act. So… what on earth did you <em>do</em> last night!?”</p><p class="Preference">Max grimaced. “Sabrina and I found a girl who had evidently been targeted in a sextortion racket. I traced the number responsible and discovered that he had sent out another round of messages last night, including the message to you.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette stared at him blankly. “What.” She blinked. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening in shock. “Wait… He…”</p><p class="Preference">Max nodded curtly, mouth set in a thin line. “Affirmative.”</p><p class="Preference">Her eyes flashed with rage. “Let me see it,” she ordered.</p><p class="Preference">“I would advise against it,” Max warned.</p><p class="Preference">“Let. Me. See. It,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing. “Now.”</p><p class="Preference">Max grimaced, sighing in resignation. “Markov?”</p><p class="Preference">There was silence on the other side of the call for several minutes. Marinette’s eyes skimmed from side to side across the screen as she read. Then– “<em>He said</em> <em>WHAT!?!</em> Oh, I don’t believe it! That asshole accuses me of… and then he has the <em>gall</em> to – and he thinks I would – AUGH!” Her phone suddenly flew across the room. Max caught a quick glimpse of pink before the screen went dark.</p><p class="Preference">“Umm, Princess?” Adrien’s voice came through the phone muffled. Suddenly the screen lightened again and Adrien’s face appeared. His eyes furrowed in confusion, widened in shock, and narrowed dangerously. “I’m going to kill him.” His nostrils flared. “Fifteen minutes and all he’s gonna be is ‘dust in the wind’… If he would say something like that to my Lady, he’s a dead man. <em>No one</em> talks to you like that and gets away with it… and <em>yes</em>, Plagg! I am <em>dead</em> serious!” He glared at something right next to his head as Marinette reappeared on the screen. “Claws–”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette cut him off with a kiss. “I love it when you get all protective, Kitty,” she told him, patting his cheek. “But <em>you</em>’re not going to kill him.” Her mouth set in a thin line. “<em>I</em>’m going to hogtie him to the Eiffel Tower and leave him there until the next thunderstorm!”</p><p class="Preference">Max cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to the video call in progress. “Again, I cannot stress highly enough just how strongly I counsel <em>against</em> either of you taking revenge on him.”</p><p class="Preference">Both of them glared at him. “<em>Why?</em>”</p><p class="Preference">Max swallowed nervously. “If you do this, it is tantamount to admitting that Ladybug was one of the targets of this extortion – likely of the most recent round – placing your identities in jeopardy,” he began. “Additionally, while this may provide <em>you</em> with revenge, it does not give closure to the other victims.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette stared at him blankly. “<em>Other</em> victims?” Max nodded. “How <em>many</em> other victims?”</p><p class="Preference">“We have identified 463 female students at Lycée Dufranne and other schools in Paris, both lycées and colleges, who were targeted,” Markov supplied.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette blinked.</p><p class="Preference">“I am meeting with Prefect Raincomprix in seven minutes,” Max informed them. “I am going to give him the evidence and let the police handle it. In the meantime, I have taken away his access to his devices.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette made a face. “Fine. But keep us informed.” The call ended.</p><p class="Preference">Max stared at the phone pensively. How many more of the girls who had received that message would be confused and demanding answers today? And how many more would be interested in revenge against Tholmyès? Max could understand the feeling – Sabrina was already at school to monitor their classmates’ emotions as the news broke, just in case. But why couldn’t he have found out sooner? With a groan he hit the button to call Alix.</p><p class="Preference">“I’m literally going to see you in five minutes,” she pointed out on answering, the rushing wind coming through the phone clearly. “What’s up?”</p><p class="Preference">“You received a message from Fernand Tholmyès on November 22 at 20:14 stating that he would inform your father that you were engaged in a sexual relationship with Kim if you did not send him a nude photo.”</p><p class="Preference">A pause. “How the <em>hell</em> do you know about that?”</p><p class="Preference">“You responded to him with a picture of your elbows along with a message saying that he needs to work on his pickup lines.”</p><p class="Preference">“Again, how do you know any of this?”</p><p class="Preference">Max sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alix, why did you not tell me about this?”</p><p class="Preference">“About <em>what</em>? A stupid bad-taste prank by some dumbass at school?” She scoffed. “He must’ve known there was no way anyone would fall for a dumb story like that–”</p><p class="Preference">“This was not a prank!” Max interrupted. “Do you have any idea how many other girls he targeted with this?”</p><p class="Preference">“<em>What?</em> You mean he tried that bullshit on someone <em>else</em>?”</p><p class="Preference">“Yes!” Max groaned. “He sent messages like that to more than just you.”</p><p class="Preference">“I thought this was just a stupid joke!” She let out an angry growl. “I’ll kill him.”</p><p class="Preference">Max smirked humorlessly. “Evidently there will be a line: Marinette has already called dibs on that.”</p><p class="Preference">“Wait–he tried pulling this shit on <em>Marinette</em>?” demanded Alix heatedly. “I–if I had known…”</p><p class="Preference">“If you had realized, perhaps we could have spared other girls,” Max agreed. “As it is, all we can do is see to it that he faces punishment and try to undo as much of the damage as we can.”</p><p class="Preference">Alix huffed. “Fine. So what do you want me to do?”</p><p class="Preference">“At the moment? Keep an eye out for possible reprisals against him at school. From Kim especially…”</p><p class="Preference">“<em>That bastard targeted Ondine too!?!</em> I’m gonna–”</p><p class="Preference">Markov chirped insistently at Max. “Your appointment with Prefect Raincomprix is in less than three minutes!”</p><p class="Preference">Muttering a curse, Max rushed out of the alley and around the corner, through the doors to city hall. Prefect Raincomprix’s office was at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Roger’s secretary, Jeanne, looked up at him in surprise as he pushed open the door to the outer office. She started to speak, but he slid past her and into Roger’s office, closing the door behind him.</p><p class="Preference">Roger glanced away from his computer when Max entered. “Good morning, Max!” he greeted him, waving him to take a seat. “I admit I was surprised to see you on my schedule before school today – last night no one was supposed to be in before eleven. But aren’t you coming for dinner tonight? Couldn’t this have waited until then?”</p><p class="Preference">Max grimaced. “I apologize for the last-minute appointment, Prefect. Unfortunately, this could not wait.”</p><p class="Preference">“How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Roger’?”</p><p class="Preference">“Not this time…” Max replied, his mouth set in a thin line. “This is not a social visit.” He withdrew an external hard drive from his bag and placed it on the desk.</p><p class="Preference">Roger plugged it into his computer and stared at the monitor in confusion. “Why is it asking for a decryption key?”</p><p class="Preference">“Markov will give you both decryption keys before we leave,” Max assured him, “but for now open the document labeled ‘Case Summary.’” He watched Roger’s face carefully as, over the next five minutes, he read the document. His eyes changed from confusion to surprise, shock, horror, and finally rage.</p><p class="Preference">Roger looked up at Max, his eyes narrowed. “Is this true?”</p><p class="Preference">Max nodded adamantly. “Affirmative. The emotions the girl felt were not faked. That hard drive contains nearly a terabyte of pictures sent to him by female students, in addition to copies of his correspondence with them. All of the evidence is intact, without any alterations on my part.” He nodded to Markov, who plugged a USB cord into the computer. “The drive itself is double encrypted, and the images themselves require a password to view the uncensored originals. But I need to warn you,” Max cautioned. “Do not allow this to get out beyond the necessity for prosecution. Markov and Turing have spent the last eight hours scrubbing these images from the internet as best they can.”</p><p class="Preference">“We estimate completion in approximately 42 hours,” added Markov.</p><p class="Preference">Roger’s mouth set into a thin line as he read. “Did my baby girl receive a message like this?” he demanded, glaring up at Max, hands clenched into tight fists. “If she <em>did</em>, then this Tholmyès isn’t going to <em>make</em> it to trial.”</p><p class="Preference">“Truthfully, if that were the case, I would happily dispose of the body for you,” Max agreed. “However, you can rest easy: Sabrina was not a target.” Roger let out a relieved breath, relaxing his hands. “She also said that she would tell us if that were the case,” Max added.</p><p class="Preference">“Good.” Roger chuckled humorlessly. “I suppose that’s better than trying to handle him by herself.”</p><p class="Preference">“She certainly <em>could</em>…” Max noted, arching an eyebrow.</p><p class="Preference">“Of course she could – but she shouldn’t have to.”</p><p class="Preference">“I absolutely agree.” Max frowned.</p><p class="Preference">“So…” Roger examined him carefully. “I assume the Heroes of Paris are <em>not</em> going to take this any further. Then what do you suggest the Prefecture does about this?”</p><p class="Preference">Max shrugged. “I already have Turing monitoring all of Fernand’s accounts in case he tries to access any of them – I disabled all of his electronics last night. Markov is going to trail him today to ensure that he does not try anything at school. But legally, what options are there?”</p><p class="Preference">Roger pursed his lips. “With the ages of the victims, this easily can fit the definition of trafficking in child pornography. Sexual coercion, sexual exploitation, sexual exploitation of a minor, extortion… I’ll talk to the cybercrime department’s prosecutor and see what the next step is.”</p><p class="Preference">Max nodded, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Thank you.”</p><p class="Preference">Roger clapped him on the shoulder. “I should be thanking you, son,” he observed. “In less than a day you’ve handed us all the evidence we need to stop this bastard permanently.”</p><p class="Preference">He hummed pensively. “It cannot undo what he did to his victims…”</p><p class="Preference">Roger shook his head. “No, it can’t,” he agreed. “But sometimes police work is only about stopping and punishing the crime; in some cases the only catharsis available to the victims is knowing that the criminal is going to jail for a long time. You did a good thing here. And thank you for stopping him – especially before he could try to hurt my daughter.”</p><p class="Preference">Max sighed. “Of course; I only wish I had stopped him sooner.”</p><p class="Preference">Roger nodded sympathetically. “I know.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. The Curse of the Snake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luka needs to talk to someone. Kagami has just the person.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This serves as a follow-up to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117810/chapters/74185608">“Tokyo: Time and Again.”</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Sitting alone on the deck of the <em>Liberty</em>, Luka strummed his guitar slowly, not really paying attention to the notes he was playing. A melancholy tune began to emerge from the disparate chords, vaguely Phrygian. Kagami’s arm still hadn’t fully healed; Longg suspected it would be another three weeks before she could really risk using it, even with the miraculous accelerating her healing. Tomoe had been surprisingly accommodating after their return from Tokyo – she had come herself to pick them up from the airport and even given Luka a tacit acknowledgement as he helped Kagami into the car. She had ordered the car to bring them home and stated that Kagami was to rest at home until her arm had healed. Kagami had rolled her eyes but “agreed”… on the condition that it be <em>Luka</em>’s home. When Tomoe had hesitated momentarily, Kagami had threatened to move out the same day.</p><p class="Preference">That was how Kagami had come to move into the <em>Liberty</em>’s spare cabin, where Luka could see her every night and reassure himself that she was still alive.</p><p class="Preference">At the moment, though, she wasn’t there; after school she had gone to visit a friend. Luka frowned as he continued to play – this song didn’t quite sound the way it was supposed to. He couldn’t concentrate – all he could hear was the snap, then Kagami’s scream, when her arm broke. The thud of Kamiyama’s head against hers. The sound of her body hitting the ground. His grip on the guitar’s neck tightened involuntarily. The music cut off.</p><p class="Preference">“Luka?”</p><p class="Preference">He looked up to find Kagami standing at the top of the gangplank with Sabrina, staring at him with her eyebrows raised in an expression of concern. Sabrina cocked her head to one side, appearing deep in thought. He’d only met Sabrina a handful of times, and only in the last year or so – she and Chloe had never been particularly close with Juleka, and that had only started to change in the last year. So why had Kagami brought her over? He hadn’t even realized the two of them <em>knew</em> each other. Luka smiled warmly at Kagami, who strode across the deck, stopped right in front of him and stared down at him, folding her good arm over her sling. He held out his hand to her. “Hey, babe!”</p><p class="Preference">She frowned. “You seriously need to talk to someone about this,” she informed him.</p><p class="Preference">“I have no idea was you mean,” he evaded, his face setting in an expressionless mask.</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t give me that,” she insisted. “I know you wake up in the middle of the night. I know you have nightmares. You don’t want to tell me about it, and that’s fine. But what’s <em>not</em> fine is for you to bottle it all up inside. You need to talk to someone. That’s why Sabrina’s here.”</p><p class="Preference">Luka’s poker face crumbled and cocked his head in concern, his eyes drifting between the two girls. This was insane! Kagami wanted him to talk about hero business? With a <em>civilian</em>? That would compromise <em>both</em> their identities!</p><p class="Preference">As though she had read his thoughts, Sabrina let out a snort of laughter and arched an eyebrow at Kagami. “You seriously didn’t tell him???”</p><p class="Preference">Luka furrowed his brows.</p><p class="Preference">Kagami shrugged her good shoulder noncommittally. “It never came up.”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, I’d say that it came up now,” Sabrina observed drily. She sighed heavily and gave Luka an amused look. “Kagami says that you’re having some issues of the ‘I’ve literally seen my girlfriend die a dozen times’ variety. And I’m one of about 3 people you can actually talk to about that.”</p><p class="Preference">Oh.</p><p class="Preference">“Impératrice Pourpre.”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina smiled as her Kwami – Nooroo – emerged from her purse and rose to hover in front of her. “At your service. So where would you like to meet?”</p><p class="Preference">Luka shrugged. “It’s not <em>so</em> bad,” he demurred.</p><p class="Preference">“Yes. It is,” Kagami retorted shortly, her jaw clenching tightly.</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina placed a hand on Kagami’s shoulder and gently pulled her back away from Luka. “Needing to talk isn’t a bad thing,” she explained to him quietly. “The fact that Second Chance wears on you so much shows how much you care about your team.”</p><p class="Preference">“I have told him that myssself on many occasssionsss, Misss,” observed Sass, popping his head out through Luka’s guitar case.</p><p class="Preference">“Traitor.” Luka glared halfheartedly at his Kwami and sighed in resignation. “I guess it might help to talk it out with someone,” he admitted, standing up glancing behind him. “The pilothouse is open since Mom’s downstairs.”</p><p class="Preference">Kagami put her hand on his cheek and gave him a kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered tenderly, placing her forehead against his. “I’m going down to the room; come and find me when you’re finished.”</p><p class="Preference">“I will,” he replied softly. He watched Kagami climb down the stairs before turning back to find Sabrina watching him expectantly. With a shrug he led the way into the pilothouse.</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina followed him in and leaned against the wall, rubbing Nooroo’s head gently, staring at him with a calm expression on her face.</p><p class="Preference">Luka hopped up to sit on the edge of the counter next to the wheel, Sass coiled next to him. “So where should I start?”</p><p class="Preference">“Where do you <em>want</em> to start?”</p><p class="Preference">Luka fell silent, staring at the deck boards. Truthfully, he didn’t <em>want</em> to start talking – not about this. If he <em>did</em>, would he even be able to stop talking? “Fifty-seven times.”</p><p class="Preference">“Hmm?”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s how many times Kagami has died.” He looked up at Sabrina, feeling his eyes sting. “It’s been a little over a year since we started teaming up together, and I’ve watched her get killed 57 times – and that’s just the <em>deaths</em>. That’s not even <em>counting</em> the injuries she’s sustained. Do you have any idea how taxing that is? It was bad enough when she was ‘just Ryoku’, the other hero who happened to be there. Or when she was ‘my partner’. Do you remember when Ladybug decided that the two of us made an effective team, so she started pairing us up for almost everything?”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina nodded. “Of course; all of us were in on the decision. The two of you have always worked together well.”</p><p class="Preference">“Do you know what one of the side effects of that is? The heroes I work with the most are the ones I care about the most – Kagami and Juleka and Rose. And do you know who I watch <em>die</em> the most often? Those three. The heroes I don’t know as well I haven’t really seen get injured – it’s only the ones I love the most. Do you have any idea how much it absolutely sucks to watch a building fall on my sister? Or her girlfriend run over by a semi? Or <em>my</em> girlfriend decapitated?”</p><p class="Preference">“I imagine it’s one of the worst experiences imaginable,” Sabrina replied, frowning sympathetically. “I’ve only seen Max hurt once, and that was bad enough. I imagine with your ability, every time it happens there’s a little bit more of this guilt that creeps in.”</p><p class="Preference">“‘Guilt’…” Luka repeated, scoffing. “That’s a word for it. Considering that I end up using Kagami as a guinea pig, just watching her take injuries over and over so I know what to avoid… sure she doesn’t feel the pain after I reset the time, but I still watch it happen. In the moment she still experiences it. And the crazy thing is that she never hesitates for a moment.”</p><p class="Preference">“The trussst ssshe hasss for you isss powerful,” Sass told him quietly.</p><p class="Preference">Nooroo nodded. “It is easy to sense how much you both care for each other,” he observed. “That his not something to discount.”</p><p class="Preference">Luka’s shoulders slumped. “I know that. But that means I have to watch her get hurt over and over.”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina nodded slowly. “So every time you go out to fight with Kagami, you have to watch her suffer pain from these injuries. And even though you can repair it physically, it doesn’t change that you remember what happened. So that’s where the grief and anxiety come from.”</p><p class="Preference">He nodded, his hand drifting down to wrap around his bracelet. “I wish sometimes that I didn’t have to carry this,” he admitted. Sass patted his wrist comfortingly. He steeled himself. “But I know that if I <em>didn’t</em> have it, who knows what would happen? At least this way I can watch Kagami’s back. At least this way I’m there to keep them safe.”</p><p class="Preference">“You’re doing your job, and it keeps the people you love safe,” Sabrina reflected. “And yet I don’t sense that it makes you happy, <em>or</em> satisfied.”</p><p class="Preference">He shook his head.</p><p class="Preference">“Can I ask why?” Sabrina pressed. “Is it because you have to watch the people you love die and that bothers you? Or is it because it <em>doesn’t</em> bother you as much as you think maybe it should?”</p><p class="Preference">Luka frowned, thinking. “The first one… mostly.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “But I’m still worried about the second. What if I get to the point where death just doesn’t affect me anymore because I can just rewind and redo it?”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina knitted her brows together in contemplation. “That is certainly a valid concern,” she agreed eventually, nodding. “However, I would say that the fact that you’re so guilt-ridden over the injury you <em>couldn’t</em> prevent suggests that you aren’t in danger of becoming immune to pain and suffering,” she pointed out.</p><p class="Preference">Luka let out a humorless laugh. “Good for me?”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m just saying that there is a positive to what you are feeling right now,” Sabrina protested. “Feeling what you are feeling isn’t fun, and it isn’t what you <em>want</em> to feel – we both know that. But it’s a natural thing for someone as caring as you are to be feeling under the circumstances. So the fact that you are feeling it means that you aren’t becoming desensitized to it.”</p><p class="Preference">“So what am I supposed to do with this?”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina let out a slow breath. “First, forgive yourself for the mistake you made last week. Kagami has already forgiven you for it. She still trusts you absolutely – you don’t need <em>me</em> to tell you that. Second, accept that you are going to make mistakes. People are going to get hurt on your watch, and you will have to make choices, hard choices even. Even with your miraculous, you can’t do everything. But third, allow yourself to live and enjoy the time you do have.”</p><p class="Preference">Luka nodded slowly. “It all makes sense,” he agreed. “But there’s such a difference between <em>saying</em> it and <em>doing</em> it.”</p><p class="Preference">“There is,” she acknowledged, smiling sympathetically. “It’s not something you’ll be able to do right away. But you can get there. And if you need to talk, now you know how to find me.”</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah.” He let out a breath. “Um… thanks. This… it actually helped.”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina pushed away from the wall and opened the door. “Would it help to make this a weekly appointment?” she asked as they stepped out onto the deck.</p><p class="Preference">He shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll give that some thought.”</p><p class="Preference">“Okay…” she responded, heading down the gangplank. “Let me know, one way or the other. Otherwise I’ll ask Kagami to remind you.”</p><p class="Preference">“I will. And thanks.”</p><p class="Preference">Even before Sabrina had made it to the shore, Luka had already jumped down the stairs to the lower deck. He gave Longg a passing nod as the Kwami looked up from the tin of sardines he was sampling on the kitchen counter, where Sass joined him. Luka opened the door to Kagami’s cabin to find her lying on the bed, idly surfing on her phone. The moment the door opened, she put it aside and glanced up at him, smiling warmly. Luka stepped inside and closed the door behind him, crossing to sit down on the edge of the bed, looking down at Kagami.</p><p class="Preference">She smiled up at him. “Hey.”</p><p class="Preference">He smiled softly, and carefully eased himself down to lie next to her. “Hey,” he responded, draping his arm over her and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Thanks.”</p><p class="Preference">“Did it help?”</p><p class="Preference">“A little.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s good.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had this written before I started publishing “Tokyo.” Luka talking to Adrien about “Desperada” may still happen, but not until after the next main story, “The Teutonic Knight.” Tomorrow I’m starting the next “SLD Case Report,” which is a follow-up to today’s “Patrol Log.” Then will be the last chapter of “Fridge” and another “Life and Times” one-shot.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. The Baby Shower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The American Miraculous Temple is throwing a baby shower, and the Heroes of Paris are invited.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">Marinette stepped off the elevator plate in Headquarters at 2:55 in the afternoon to a cacophony of noise bouncing off the stone walls and ceiling – all the girls laughing and arguing together, waiting for them to leave. Marinette grinned on hearing Rose announce that she was excited to see a miraculous temple for the first time.</p><p class="Preference">Chloe rolled her eyes. “I mean, they’re nice enough,” she admitted. “But it’s just another place with a bunch of new people and a dozen or so Kwamis flying around.”</p><p class="Preference">Sitting on Rose’s shoulder, Daizzi clapped her paws eagerly. “It’s been so long since we could be out in the open in a temple!”</p><p class="Preference">Roarr scoffed. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “We have the <em>Liberty</em>, we have this place…”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, yeah, but we don’t have a temple…”</p><p class="Preference">“You’ll have a temple soon enough,” Emilie promised the Kwamis, smiling. “Thanks in no small part to our friends!”</p><p class="Preference">Chloe smirked at Rose and Juleka, her eyes lighting up mischievously. “Tell you what, next time I get a call from someone wanting an assist, I’ll call <em>you</em> two!”</p><p class="Preference">Rose nodded eagerly, elbowing Juleka in the ribs. “I wouldn’t mind a trip. Any chance of visiting one on a beach?”</p><p class="Preference">Chloe hummed. “There’s plenty of sand at the Mali temple…”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina stifled a laugh. “That’s the one in the middle of the Sahara, isn’t it?”</p><p class="Preference">Chloe shrugged.</p><p class="Preference">“Regardless of the reason, the temples are a lot of fun to visit,” Marinette interjected, stopping between Alya and Chloe. “If you get a chance while we’re there, you should check out the mosaics in the American Temple. They’re so amazing!”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, look who finally decided to show up!” Alya observed wryly, raising an eyebrow. She nodded toward the bank of seven clocks that Max had installed in the wall on either side of the portal ring. “We’re supposed to be there in just a couple of minutes.”</p><p class="Preference">“Sorry,” Marinette replied, shrugging, “I was busy. And it wasn’t all that far of a trip.”</p><p class="Preference">“I’m a little surprised you didn’t go over already,” Chloe noted. “I thought you would have wanted to help with the decorating.”</p><p class="Preference">“I offered!” Marinette retorted. “But Paola and Maria insisted that they were going to host this; the rest of us are their guests.” She sighed, clutching her gift bag to her chest.</p><p class="Preference">Chloe hummed, arching an eyebrow at her knowingly. “I suppose you needed the extra time to finish your present!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette flushed and Sabrina covered her mouth with a hand to hide her giggles. Alya elbowed Marinette in the side. “I can confirm!”</p><p class="Preference">“This is just so exciting!” Mylène squealed, beaming from ear to ear. “And to think: Ivan and I saw them at the Christmas market, and we had no idea!”</p><p class="Preference">“It is super cool,” Juleka agreed, nodding. Rose hugged her tightly.</p><p class="Preference">“I don’t exactly feel sorry for Julia having to wrangle <em>two</em> of them in a few months, though,” Alya observed, grimacing. “Marco <em>alone</em> is enough of a handful!”</p><p class="Preference">“But he’s just so cute,” Mylène replied, clasping her hands. “Why <em>wouldn’t</em> you want more than just one?”</p><p class="Preference">Alya scoffed, shaking her head ruefully. “I should’ve had you help me babysit the twins when they were younger, girl!”</p><p class="Preference">“They weren’t <em>that</em> bad…” Sabrina protested. “They were always very well behaved for me!”</p><p class="Preference">Alya rolled her eyes. “Of course they liked you better,” she grumbled, her lips curving up in a smile.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette laughed along with the others as the portal opened in front of them, revealing Paola standing in the American temple’s lab room waiting for them. Marinette led the way through the portal, followed by the others. All but Chloe looked around in surprise and amazement on seeing the smooth stone walls and long metal tables of Paola’s lab, lined with jet engine parts. Paola held out a hand to Marinette, who gave her a quick hug.</p><p class="Preference">“When you said you were going to bring some friends along, you weren’t kidding!” Paola observed, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a good thing Maria tripled the food this time!”</p><p class="Preference">“Well, Julia’s also a member of our team now,” Marinette pointed out, grimacing sheepishly. “We wanted to show our support. I hope that’s okay.”</p><p class="Preference">Paola patted her back. “Of course! The more the merrier!”</p><p class="Preference">“A couple of the others were curious to see your temple,” added Chloe, hugging Paola herself and nodding to Rose and Juleka. Rose giggled unrepentantly.</p><p class="Preference">Paola grinned. “I’ll be happy to give you all the tour later – or have Sofia do it. But in the meantime, we have a metric ton of cake to eat!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette coughed, drawing the other girls’ attention back to her. “Lead the way!”</p><p class="Preference">Paola took off out of the room at a decent pace, followed by Marinette, Chloe, Emilie, and then the others. Marinette glanced back at the corner to see Juleka trailing her finger along Miracle Mother’s mosaic while Alya examined one of the figures more closely. As they went, Paola paused to point out the way to their dormitory rooms and exercise gym, as well as the training hall and classrooms. Following her through the halls and down the stairs, Marinette couldn’t help reflecting on when they had first met the American Miraculous Team and visited their temple, almost a full year ago. She and Adrien had been on their own for so long in the fight against Hawk Moth. Even after defeating him, they had only known about their own team and the United Heroez in America; for all they had known theirs were the only miraculous in existence. That had changed with their warning from old-Chloe, but they still hadn’t entirely believed that they would actually <em>meet</em> those other miraculous users. And yet, here she was, back in the American Miraculous Temple, among friends.</p><p class="Preference">The wall to their right fell away to reveal an enormous dining room, festooned with blue and pink balloons, streamers covering the walls in an explosion of colors. About a dozen people stood around the room, many of whom Marinette only recognized in passing, whose names she didn’t know. One entire table was taken up by a sheet cake; another had what looked like half a roasted cow. Paola pointed them over to the far wall, where a growing pile of presents sat beneath a banner: “Bebé Barreda.” “I hope you didn’t bring <em>too</em> much clothing,” Paola warned, smirking. “We have an entire room of baby clothes we’ve accumulated over the years. Of course, someone probably needs to go through that at some point; last time I was in there, I think I saw a onesie that Sakwitcu PaitseG’s baby could have used!” She raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Balamm, who was perched on her shoulder.</p><p class="Preference">The Kwami shrugged. “Don’t look at <em>me</em> to do that for you,” he objected. “I don’t exactly keep up with fashion trends!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette giggled. “Well, if you ever need clothing, we have a roomful of baby clothes at the Mansion, too!” she told her. “And I can promise you ours are a little newer than the 1800s!”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, you’d better not encourage her,” Paola warned, smirking and nodding in Julia’s direction. “There were a few days she put Marco in no less than a dozen outfits just to see how they would look!”</p><p class="Preference">“He put up with that?” asked Alya raising an eyebrow dubiously before moving off to follow the others toward the refreshment tables.</p><p class="Preference">As they spoke, Julia stepped away from where Lise and another girl were watching Marco by the refreshment table and walked over to them, wearing a shirt with the stomach designed to look like a large mottled egg. Wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders she grinned. “Thanks for coming!” she told Marinette.</p><p class="Preference">“Congratulations!” Marinette replied, smiling and hugging her tightly. “This is so exciting! But I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner; I would have had Turing take you out of the patrol rotation right away! What would have happened if you got hurt? What would have happened to the baby, I mean, I know you would have been <em>fine</em>, but–”</p><p class="Preference">“<em>Chica</em>,” Julia interrupted her gently, “you worry too much. You forget, I <em>have</em> done this before. Trust me: I know what I’m doing.” Paola coughed. “Or my ‘doctora’ does!” She poked Marinette in the stomach. “Give it some time; you’ll know what I mean!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette blushed and looked away. “I… don’t think I’m ready for that,” she admitted. “Watching Manon or Alya’s sisters or Marco is fine – I can give them back to mommy eventually. But if <em>I</em>’m Mommy…”</p><p class="Preference">Julia nodded, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s a big responsibility,” she acknowledged. “But I think you and Adrien would be great parents when the time comes.”</p><p class="Preference">“Not me,” Paola interjected, smirking. “I’m perfectly happy being the cool aunt for <em>your</em> little ankle-biters Juli!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia scoffed. “Just for that, I’m giving you <em>all</em> of her dirty diapers!”</p><p class="Preference">“Oh, no you aren’t!” retorted Paola, rolling her eyes. “<em>You</em>’re the one who made her!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia hummed and cradled her stomach, a soft look in her eyes.</p><p class="Preference">If Marinette hadn’t known better, she wouldn’t even have realized Julia was pregnant. “Do you know the gender yet?”</p><p class="Preference">“No; we want it to be a surprise,” Julia explained.</p><p class="Preference">“I’m pretty sure Mettli already knows,” added Paola. “Though Juli already ordered her not to say anything!”</p><p class="Preference">Alya returned with two cups of punch and handed one to Marinette. Marinette grimaced, trying to balance the drink along with the present. Finally she pressed the gift bag into Julia’s hands.</p><p class="Preference">“You know you didn’t have to get us anything,” Julia objected, staring down at the bag.</p><p class="Preference">“Then it’s a good thing I <em>didn’t</em> ‘get’ anything!” Marinette replied, smirking in amusement.</p><p class="Preference">Alya grinned excitedly. “Open it now! She still hasn’t let me see it!”</p><p class="Preference">Julia cocked her head in confusion before extracting the tissue paper and reaching inside. Her eyes widened in surprise and she pulled out a green knitted afghan with the same pattern repeated in each row: a silver wolf paw with golden feathers replacing the claws. Paola whistled appreciatively. Julia held it out and stared at it in awe. “This must have taken you forever,” she whispered.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette shrugged. “It <em>couldn’t</em> take forever; you didn’t give me much of a head’s up! Besides, you and Pablo are worth it.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia sniffled. “You’re going to make me cry, <em>chica</em>,” she muttered, wiping a tear from her eye. She pulled Marinette into a tight hug, and Marinette patted her back.</p><p class="Preference">“If you ever need help with the kids, just let me know,” Marinette whispered.</p><p class="Preference">“Thanks.” Julia sighed, squeezing Marinette tighter before releasing her and refolding the blanket.</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina hesitated in front of them, holding her hand out. “Can–can I?” she asked nervously.</p><p class="Preference">Julia shrugged. “Why not? I haven’t felt her move much, though.”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina placed her hand over Julia’s belly and closed her eyes, her brows furrowed. Opening her eyes, she smiled warmly. “He’s so content!”</p><p class="Preference">“Wait… you can feel the baby’s emotions?” Julia asked, eyes wide.</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina nodded. “I… it’s somewhat indistinct unless I really concentrate,” she explained.</p><p class="Preference">Emilie hummed. “It’s such an incredible sensation, though,” she commented. “I could actually sense it a couple weeks before you told us.”</p><p class="Preference">Julia raised an eyebrow in surprise, rubbing her belly protectively. “That’s–wow–but… but the baby is happy?”</p><p class="Preference">Emilie nodded reassuringly. “I’ve only felt happiness and contentment and love from her.”</p><p class="Preference">“Who’s ready for cake?” called Maria, clapping her hands for attention as a couple of the initiates passed out plates.</p><p class="Preference">“So, Mar,” Alya observed around a mouthful of cake, “are you and Sunshine going to be next? Because I already call dibs on being the hot aunt!”</p><p class="Preference">“Please,” Chloe interjected. “We both know that's going to be <em>me</em>!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you and Nino are going to have one before us!” she teased Alya. “<em>Two</em> with your family.”</p><p class="Preference">Alya paled. “Oh, no, I am <em>not</em> signing up for twins!”</p><p class="Preference">“Children are something Ivan and I have talked about,” Mylène confided. “But not until we’re in University at least.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s coming up pretty fast, though, isn’t it?” worried Rose, frowning</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t remind me…” Alya muttered.</p><p class="Preference">Chloe rolled her eyes. “Baby fever? Really? I’m going to be, like, the only hero <em>left</em> at this rate!” She arched an eyebrow at Sabrina. “So, are you planning to get in on this, too?”</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina turned crimson. “Um… no. Not yet, at least.”</p><p class="Preference">“What about you two?” Chloe demanded, turning on Rose and Juleka.</p><p class="Preference">Rose giggled. “What do you think, Jules?” Juleka fixed her with a deadpan expression. “Yeah, we’re good,” Rose agreed, shaking her head.</p><p class="Preference">“Well, in that case I guess we’re okay then, if you all go off and start nesting,” Chloe decided. She smirked maliciously. “Just… try not to <em>all</em> ‘do it’ at once!”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette flushed deep red.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>“Sakwitcu PaitseG” is Shoshone for “Bison guide.” I think. Any guesses the real-life historical character?</p><p>Keep an eye out tomorrow for “The Teutonic Knight.” Three superheroes and two super-villains go on a class trip to Berlin; what could possibly go wrong?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Tea with the Den Mother</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Irene has a heart-to-heart with an officer's fiancée about being married to a police officer</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This came from a suggestion on the SLD chapter of “A Very Miraculous Christmas.” The amazing thing about writing such an expansive world is that it feels completely natural to write a one-shot with original characters, even these two! If you need a reminder, Delphine is the fiancée of Officer Raymond Luron from the Superhero Liaison Department.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“I just – I worry, Irene. I don’t <em>want</em> to, but… I do.”</p><p class="Preference">Irene nodded sympathetically and offered her guest a refill of tea. Delphine nodded reluctantly, and Irene topped her cup off. “Dear,” she told the younger woman, patting her hand gently, “even just knowing a <em>little</em> bit of what Ray must see on a regular basic, if you <em>didn’t</em> worry, I’d probably be worried for <em>you</em>!”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine chuckled humorlessly, clutching her teacup in both hands. “It’s not every day – or even every week,” she explained. “But every so often there will be something on the radio. Or there will be a report of an officer-involved incident. And…” her voice trailed off.</p><p class="Preference">“… And you think about the last thing you said to him?” Irene suggested, raising a knowing eyebrow. Delphine’s shoulders slumped and she nodded. Irene sighed. “I wish I could tell you that it gets better, but I would be lying. The truth is that worrying about your husband – or fiancé, as the case may be – simply comes with the job that they’re in.”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s just – it’s so stressful!” Delphine ran a hand through her hair. “The last time Ray got a middle-of-the-night call, it wasn’t even because something <em>bad</em> had happened; it was because they had found those missing girls! He told me they just wanted him to come in for security, that they didn’t expect anything to happen, that he would probably be home by the time I woke up, but it still took me an hour to get back to sleep.”</p><p class="Preference">Irene let out a breath and nodded. “I remember. Roger was so relieved that they had found the girls. I was happy, too, of course – several of them were around the same age as my Sabrina, you know. But it still brought back memories.”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine sighed. “Ray said that Prefect Raincomprix–”</p><p class="Preference">“You really can just call him ‘Roger,’ dear,” Irene interrupted her gently. “At least when you’re not talking to him while he’s on duty. You don’t work for him, after all!”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine hummed ruefully. “Some days it almost feels like I do,” she admitted, frowning.</p><p class="Preference">“They do sometimes act as though the badge is their mistress, don’t they?” Irene mused, sighing.</p><p class="Preference">“It’s not so bad when the <em>badge</em> is the ‘mistress’,” commented Delphine. “It’s so much worse–”</p><p class="Preference">“–when <em>you</em>’re the ‘mistress’,” Irene finished, nodding sympathetically.</p><p class="Preference">Delphine’s shoulders slumped. “How do you do it?” she asked, a pleading look in her eyes.</p><p class="Preference">Irene furrowed her brows in thought and took another sip of her tea. Even after 20 years, she couldn’t really say how she had managed to stick it out with Roger, despite the stress his job had placed on their marriage – especially over their first couple years, before Sabrina was born. Irene gave the younger woman a closer look and finally decided. “Allow me to answer your question with another question: when you and Ray fell in love, what did you first fall in love with?” Delpine looked at her in surprise, cocking her head in confusion. “For myself, I loved how kind Roger was, how much he cared about and wanted to help people, how much he wanted to do the right thing, no matter what that might mean. How he would even stand up to the Mayor of Paris if Andre was out of line.”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine nodded understandingly. “I guess… it was his sense of humor first,” she admitted. “But the more I got to know him, the more I realized how brave he is, how protective he can be – like you said, the willingness to do the right thing.” She smiled fondly. “I think it was on our second date, we were walking back to my apartment when he saw two guys fighting outside a bar. He just walked over, told a couple jokes, talked the one into handing him his knife, and defused the situation.”</p><p class="Preference">Irene raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You got an early taste of it, didn’t you?”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine shrugged. “That’s just what he’s always been like, for as long as I’ve known him: always trying to help people.”</p><p class="Preference">“And those are also some of the qualities that make him a good police officer, aren’t they?”</p><p class="Preference">“Yes.” Delphine pursed her lips. “So… are you saying that I fell in love with the job?” she asked dubiously.</p><p class="Preference">“No; of course not.” Irene shook her head. “Some women do, but I don’t think that’s you. You fell in love with Ray for who he is, not because you saw his <em>badge</em>, right?”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine nodded adamantly. “He didn’t even tell me he was at the Academy until after that second date.”</p><p class="Preference">“How did knowing that change your relationship?”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine frowned. “I think I thought it was exciting at first,” she admitted. “But, then, <em>everything</em> was so new and exciting at that point since we were still just getting to know each other. He was the first man I’d dated who’d actually expressed interest in <em>my</em> interests, who wanted to know <em>me</em>.” She chuckled. “He listened to me talk about graphic design for an hour on our first date – and he even paid attention the whole time! So finding out that he was going to be a police officer… it was just another piece of the amazing man he was.”</p><p class="Preference">Irene smiled warmly. “You aren’t in love with a police officer; you’re in love with a man who happens to also <em>be</em> a police officer.” Delphine nodded, a little of the tension leaving her face. “But even knowing that, I think you can acknowledge that Ray is well suited to the job he has now.” She paused a moment while Delphine thought. “Speaking for myself, after all this time I realize that I love Roger for who he is, and that he wouldn’t really be happy if he were doing something <em>other</em> than this. So of course he’s going to be a police officer; how could he be anything else?”</p><p class="Preference">“Does that make it easier?”</p><p class="Preference">“Not all the time,” Irene admitted, shaking her head. “There are still the days when he’s talking about nothing but the job. There are still the days when he has to come home late because he was at a meeting all day that he can hardly talk about. It was especially difficult when Sabrina was younger and he could only make it to a handful of her school events because of work – either because he pulled an overnight shift and needed sleep, or because he got called in for an emergency. Of course I still knew that he loved us – Sabrina is his world, you know. But you can only look in a six-year-old’s face and tell her that Daddy couldn’t make it to her dance recital so many times before it gets to you.” Delphine frowned, staring down at the table. Irene hummed. “Are you and Ray…?”</p><p class="Preference">She shrugged. “We’ve talked about it, but at least not until after the wedding this summer,” she answered. She chuckled. “If I’m ordering a custom wedding dress, I should at least fit into it!”</p><p class="Preference">Irene laughed. “Well, when the time comes,” she told her, “or even after the wedding, for that matter – if the job starts getting in the way of your family, you just let me know. Roger will straighten him out; I’ll make sure of it!”</p><p class="Preference">“So Pre– I mean, <em>Roger</em> has gotten better about it?” Delphine wondered, a hopeful look in her eyes.</p><p class="Preference">“He has,” Irene assured her. “It took a couple visits to a marriage counselor and a lot of communication, but he absolutely has. And even now there are still times that he misses Sabrina’s events because an emergency came up – though she’s been running around so much more these days, between lycée, University classes, friends, Max…” She sighed, shaking her head. When had her little girl grown up so much? “This isn’t exactly an <em>easy</em> life, and our husbands don’t have an <em>easy</em> job. But it’s a worthwhile one.”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine frowned. “There’s just so much stress…” she mumbled, squeezing her teacup tighter.</p><p class="Preference">Irene refilled their cups, smiling wryly. “I suppose in a way you are lucky that you have already experienced all of this, even without being married to him. When Roger and I got married, I had no idea what I was in for. He was just a patrolman at the time, and no one had ever heard of Hawk Moth. The worst he ever had to deal with in those days was the occasional rowdy drunk when he got stuck working the overnight. But then there was the night that one of his drunks got belligerent and stabbed him in the arm with a knife. I got a call to come down to the emergency room in the middle of the night. Sabrina was two at the time, and I had to wake up the neighbor to watch her, so by the time I got there, he had already gotten stitched up and was more than ready to leave. But that was when I finally realized just how dangerous this job was.”</p><p class="Preference">Delphine gasped, staring at Irene in shock.</p><p class="Preference">Irene took the younger woman’s hand in her own and squeezed it gently. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Roger has only ever been injured or shot at a handful of times; it’s not like it happens every day. I just don’t want to give you the wrong impression about what you’re getting into. It’s good that you already understand it in the abstract: Ray’s job is difficult. It’s dangerous. He can get hurt – now that they are working more closely with the Heroes of Paris and actively fighting against the super-villains, that’s more likely than it even was when Hawk Moth was around. But we love them all the same. And they need us.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tomorrow look for the next "SLD Case Report"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. The Team Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chloe thinks she knows who Killer Bee is; Nino, Alya, and Sabrina aren't sure.</p><p>Marinette thinks she needs less-argumentative friends!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a follow-up to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30655859/chapters/75634748">“The Teutonic Knight.”</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Preference">“Come on, we all know it’s got to be Lila!”</p><p class="Preference">“Do we, though?”</p><p class="Preference">“Yes!”</p><p class="Preference">“I mean, we know that she lies like she breathes, but it’s a huge leap from there to super-villain, dude.”</p><p class="Preference">“You weren’t there before Amun-Vatar. Lila heard Jalil and booked it right away.”</p><p class="Preference">“Don’t forget: I <em>was</em> there, and I remember a lot of people leaving around the same time as that. Nath and Marc left almost immediately, too. And we know neither of them is Killer Bee.”</p><p class="Preference">“Okay, so how do <em>you</em> explain Lila’s emotions, Sabrina?”</p><p class="Preference">“She’s a pathological liar. Her emotions are almost always elated when she is ‘holding court’ and manipulating a large group of people.”</p><p class="Preference">“And doesn’t that sound like someone else we know?”</p><p class="Preference">“Killer Bee? Maybe…”</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah, but we can’t just jump to conclusions, dude.”</p><p class="Preference">“It’s not <em>that</em> much of a jump, though, is it, babe? She’s been obsessed with Mar and Adrien for <em>years</em> now – and on <em>both</em> sides of the mask…”</p><p class="Preference">“To be fair, <em>you</em> were pretty obsessive about Ladybug, too…”</p><p class="Preference">“Hey!”</p><p class="Preference">“Ugh! You’re all being ridiculous! Max, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe <em>you</em> should be the voice of reason here… Is Lila Killer Bee?”</p><p class="Preference">“Um… I cannot give a definitive answer to that question. However, based on the evidence at hand, there <em>is</em> a 54% chance that Lila is Killer Bee…”</p><p class="Preference">“Factoring in her known association with Hawk Moth, it rises to a 68% chance!”</p><p class="Preference">“I already factored that in, Turing…”</p><p class="Preference">“From my analysis of the equation, I weight her Akumatization rate at a factor of 6, not 3.”</p><p class="Preference">“Yes, but Akumatization is not an inherent indicator of mal-intent. Just in this room, everyone has been Akumatized at least once with the exception of Adrien and Marinette!”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s true, dude, but didn’t we see Lila grab an Akuma one time? Plus, you weren’t there when we fought her to get Chloe out of Hawk Moth’s sight.”</p><p class="Preference">“I thought you were on Team ‘Lila’s Not Killer Bee,’ babe.”</p><p class="Preference">“I don’t think she <em>can’t</em> be; I just don’t think we can assume she is.”</p><p class="Preference">“This whole <em>meeting</em> is utterly ridiculous. Tell you what: I’m just going to walk up to her and punch her in the face on principle. If she transforms, then we’ll know I’m right.”</p><p class="Preference">“Or you’ll get arrested for assault.”</p><p class="Preference">“Daddy’ll make it go away.”</p><p class="Preference">“Really, Bourgeois? You honestly think that you can assault a diplomat’s daughter unprovoked and get away with it?”</p><p class="Preference">“You got a <em>better</em> idea, Césaire?”</p><p class="Preference">“Interview her again. See if her story changes.”</p><p class="Preference">“A pathological liar like Lila won’t change her story <em>that</em> much, though. And if you call her on it, she’ll just dig in, just enough to convince you she remembered wrong, or you heard it wrong, or something.”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette rubbed her forehead in frustration, listening to the others argue back and forth across the conference table in the Heroes’ Headquarters. They had been at this for close to two hours now. She leaned into Adrien’s side for comfort, drawing strength from his presence, the arm he draped over her shoulder.</p><p class="Preference">The moment Alix had passed along their suspicion that Killer Bee was in the class, Pegasus had dropped Turing into the museum security office to check the CCTV footage, only to discover that the museum only had one camera in the room where the fight had occurred, and it had been pointed at the exit. After hitting that dead end, over the last week Pegasus and Rena Rouge had arranged interviews with every French student who had gone on the trip to Berlin, checking and double-checking their whereabouts during the battle between the three Heroes, the Teutonic Knight, the Armanemagier, and Killer Bee. And after close to two dozen interviews, they had maybe narrowed down their suspect pool to four. Marlène had lied about hiding with Mireille and Aurore when the fight began. Léa said she had been in the bathroom, though no one could corroborate that. Then there were Lila and Nadine, who had told exactly the same story about hiding together, exactly where Philippe insisted that he had left them.</p><p class="Preference">“Do you really want to focus all your attention on one of the suspects <em>with</em> an alibi?” asked Nino, raising an eyebrow dubiously. “What about Marlène? She clearly lied.”</p><p class="Preference">“I haven’t forgotten about her,” Alya assured him. “But my gut tells me something is off about Lila’s alibi. Her story and Nadine’s line up far too exactly for my taste. Down to the phrasing. So we can’t dismiss them as suspects out of hand. Of all our classmates, I think they’re the most likely.”</p><p class="Preference">“Not Nadine, though,” Chloe interjected. Alya looked up at her in surprise. “I saw Killer Bee’s natural hair color, remember? Her hair is reddish-brown; Nadine’s is blonde. So we can at least count <em>her</em> out as a suspect.”</p><p class="Preference">“Unless Killer Bee was dyeing her hair over the summer,” Alya pointed out, frowning.</p><p class="Preference">Chloe muttered a curse and folded her arms.</p><p class="Preference">Sabrina placed a hand on Chloe’s arm. “Wouldn’t it make sense to treat the hair color as fact until we can rule it out?” she asked Alya.</p><p class="Preference">“Definitely,” Alya agreed, nodding.</p><p class="Preference">“You’re not really sure about focusing entirely on Lila, are you?” observed Sabrina, raising an eyebrow at Alya.</p><p class="Preference">“You play dirty,” Alya grumbled. Sabrina gave her an amused look. Alya sighed heavily. “No…” she admitted. “We’ve – <em>I</em>’ve – gotten burned enough times in the past by focusing entirely on the most obvious answer.”</p><p class="Preference">“Like when you thought <em>Chloe</em> was Ladybug?” Marinette spoke up, stifling a giggle.</p><p class="Preference">Alya groaned, and Nino placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Not exactly my best moment,” she muttered. “But yes,” she added, louder so the rest of them could hear. “And in this case, there’s no guarantee that Killer Bee really <em>was</em> part of the class. The evidence all points in that direction, but there are other possible explanations.”</p><p class="Preference">“Come on,” Chloe scoffed. “Do you <em>honestly</em> think that a Paris super-villain turns up in Berlin at the same time as a Paris school group and there isn’t a connection? Check that; do you think she turns up at the same <em>museum</em> with them and there isn’t a connection?”</p><p class="Preference">“They definitely <em>can</em> be connected,” Alya allowed. “Hell, they probably <em>are</em>. But that doesn’t make it definite, so we still have to at least <em>consider</em> other possibilities. How many other Parisian girls were in Berlin at the same time?”</p><p class="Preference">“There were 37 other female Parisians in Berlin that week,” reported Max, as Turing projected a list into the air above the table. “Of those, 23 are accounted for through security footage, as are a further 9 through credit card transactions.”</p><p class="Preference">“Yeah, but those could be faked, couldn’t they?” asked Nino, pursing his lips. Max nodded, frowning. “So that’s still 14 other suspects, even without including the four girls in our class.”</p><p class="Preference">Adrien hummed pensively, drawing their eyes to him. “Does Killer Bee even have to be a <em>girl</em>?” he asked, staring at the list with a calculating look in his eye. “The miraculous can change our appearance.”</p><p class="Preference">“That’s true,” Nino agreed, raising an eyebrow toward Alya. “Your hair is a different color. And your waist is thinner.” Alya arched an eyebrow at him and he froze, eyes widening in fear. “Of course you’re beautiful in and out of your super-suit,” he added quickly.</p><p class="Preference">Alya snorted. “Nice save, Turtle-Boy.” She leaned into his side and let out a breath. “I guess that’s a possibility, too,” she admitted. “But we should try to eliminate the most obvious suspects – dark haired Parisian women or girls – before considering any of the more farfetched possibilities.”</p><p class="Preference">Chloe cracked her knuckles. “I call dibs on <em>eliminating</em> the most <em>obvious</em> suspect…” she volunteered, her eyes lighting up maliciously.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette gave her a deadpan look. “You’re not <em>eliminating</em> Lila, Chlo,” she informed her.</p><p class="Preference">“But if I eliminate her, then she won’t be a suspect anymore, right?” Chloe asked rhetorically. “So problem solved!”</p><p class="Preference">“No, Chloe.” Chloe folded her arms in a pout. “Besides,” Marinette added, “if <em>anyone</em> is going to ‘eliminate’ Lila, it’s going to be me!”</p><p class="Preference">“How about we flip for it,” Chloe suggested.</p><p class="Preference">“Maybe.” A smile played at the corners of Marinette’s mouth. After the last three years, it was almost crazy to think that not only was she not facing Lila alone, but even <em>Chloe</em> was on her side!</p><p class="Preference">“What do you think, Princess?” asked Adrien, squeezing her shoulder.</p><p class="Preference">Marinette let out a breath, covering Adrien’s hand with her own. Of course she wasn’t alone; she was never alone when she had Adrien with her. Marinette cleared her throat. “Maybe we don’t know for sure that Killer Bee is part of the class, but it’s more of a lead than we’ve had in a while,” she decided. “Max, you and Alya work on eliminating the rest of the suspects. Sabrina, keep an eye on Lila–”</p><p class="Preference">“But with Lila, it sounds like reading her emotions isn’t exactly the best way to do it,” Nino interjected, raising an eye in amusement. “Plus, do you really think Chloe’s best friend is the best option for watching a Killer Bee suspect?”</p><p class="Preference">Marinette sighed heavily. Given the… cool reception that all of them had given Lila over the last couple years, <em>none</em> of them were really in a position to “keep an eye on Lila.” She frowned. They could assign Markov to track Lila, but even that could raise suspicion. “Do you have a better idea?”</p><p class="Preference">Nino furrowed his brows, stroking his chin. “If <em>we</em> can’t get close to her, maybe we need to make a new friend who’s <em>already</em> close to her.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There will be “Patrol Logs” today and next week, but other than that this is the end of this season in the “Mind Games”-verse. Tomorrow will be the beginning of “Miraculous: Tales of Cat Noir-2039,” a follow-up anthology to “Running out of Time” set in the “RooT”-verse. And after that will be the beginning of the next “Mind Games”-verse Event: “The Colossus Saga”…</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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